To Boldly Go into the Grim-Darkness of the Far Future
by MURICAN P8TRIOT
Summary: Worlds collide as Star Fleet is exposed to the galaxy spanning empire that is the Imperium of Man. The Imperium expects a brief Crusade. Starfleet thinks the Imperium is the worst their respective galaxy has to offer. Both are in for rude awakenings as cultures, technologies, and empires clash. Note: This will not be a UvU steamroll they will be somewhat balanced according to fluff
1. I

_**Scientifically proceeding without understanding**_

"Commander, all of these details are in my report to Starfleet." Spoke Captain Picard from his ready room on the recently repaired enterprise-E to his terminal. The face displayed was that of a young human-Bajoran female. However her eyes were that of an old woman, undoubtedly due to her time in the various Bajoran camps throughout the quadrant.

"I understand Captain. However, it's my job to leave nothing overlooked. Is there anything else you can remember?" She asked patiently with a slight shift in her bodyweight as if she was uncomfortable.

He paused a moment to think. "No." Then he spoke again, his voice dropping in tone and severity as he addressed the Bajoran commander "Is Starfleet attempting to build a gateway?" Asked the Veteran captain as he leaned forward in his chair and putting down the cup of tea he had been stirring and sipping during this, not unpleasant, conversation.

"You know I can't answer that, Captain. Not even on secure channels." She replied. Her answer might as well have been a resounding confirmation, and it troubled him.

"Thank you for your time Captain Picard."

"Good luck Commander Keja." He bade goodbye while studying her before her face and those tired eyes were replaced by the standard Starfleet insignia with the words "TRANSMISSION TERMINATED."

The Captain tapped his combadge "Mister Data and Mister Warf would you please report to my ready room." To which he was answered with a couplet of "On my way, Sir." While he waited he speculated and sipped his tea. _Could Starfleet really be trying to build an Iconian Gateway? The one we discovered was destroyed. Perhaps they're attempting to reverse engineer a newly discovered gateway._ The door chime to his ready room chirped.

"Come." He called out. Commander Data and Lieutenant Commander Worf stepped through the threshold and entered.

"You wanted to see us, Sir." Asked Mr. Data as Worf stood beside him expectantly.

"Yes Gentlemen, please take a seat. Can I get you something?" Asked Picard as he approached the replicator to refresh his cup regardless.

"No, Thank you, sir." Worf declined. "I do not require refreshments." Declined Data.

"Very well. Computer, recycle." The computer beeped understanding as the empty cup disappeared. "Tea, Earl Gray, Hot" To which another cup full of tea appeared with thin streams of steam rising from it. "Do the two of you remember our encounter with the Iconian gateway after the Yamato's destruction?" Inquired Picard.

Worf answered "Yes." "Star date 42609.2" Continued Data.

"What I'm about to tell you is classified, and I've come to this conclusion through conjecture and assumption. But I believe Starfleet is attempting to construct a gateway similar to what we encountered on Iconia." Worf shifted in his chair while Data only blinked once.

"I called you here because I'm curious as to your reactions to this possibility." Prodded Picard.

"I don't like it." Answered Worf. "Should this technology fall into the hands of our enemies they would be able to bypass all of our defenses. However if we managed to keep it safe we would have a significant tactical advantage over the entire quadrant."

"Possibly the galaxy." Contributed Picard. Which garnished a nod from Worf.

"Captain, should this be fruitful, the logistical application alone would be astronomical. Colonization, interplanetary trade, planetary evacuations, interplanetary travel, relief efforts, rescue missions. They would all be simplified to taking limited number of steps." Added Data.

"And if we could mount this on starships with sufficient power sources Warp drive would be rendered obsolete." Continued Picard.

"Sir, I'm curious, if every effect baring capture by a hostile entity happens, why are you so reserved?" asked Data.

Picard got up and meandered his way around the table, setting down his tea as he did so. "I don't know Data, perhaps I'm just overly concerned about the unknowns of what could happen. We still know exceedingly little about the Iconians beyond myth and legend and even less regarding their technology. Perhaps, in my age, I've become somewhat conservative in my views about technology we don't fully understand."

"But sir," Worf spoke up "Our, and Starfleet's, mission has always been exploration. Isn't that exactly what we're doing?"

"Quite right Mister Worf, I'm just concerned that this will spawn a Genesis-Device like series of events."

There was a pause in the conversation as all parties reflected on the situation.

"Are all systems operational?" Inquired Piccard.

"Tactical systems are operating at ninety-eight point six percent efficiency. There are several modifications I wish to discuss with Commander Laforge regarding increasing phaser and shield power consumption to try to increase our combat capabilities while maintaining their power consumption." Reported Worf.

"All other systems are function within normal parameters, Doctor Crusher is treating a dislocated shoulder due to holodeck use, and Stellar Cartography is cataloguing stellar phenomena within range." Added Data.

"Excellent. Proceed Mister Worf and keep me appraised of your efforts. You're both dismissed." Worf and Data got up and left as Picard returned to his seat to drink more of his tea. As he took a sip there was a flash of brilliant light and his heart dropped as a middle aged man in a Starfleet Admirals clothing appeared leaning across the table, the man's face a mere two feet away from his own.

"You're right to be cautious Mon Capitaine."

"Q!" Accused Picard as anger seeped into his voice and across his face.

"Is that anyway to greet a lifelong friend?" Asked Q in a mockingly wounded voice.

"We are not friends, Q. Why am I right to be cautious?" Retorted and interrogated Picard.

"You wound me Picard, and so I will not answer your question any more than telling you that there are more universes than the only "mirror" as your species so humorously called it, encountered thus far." His face broke into a grin with his last words.

"Damn it Q what's going to happen." Demanded Picard restrain gone from his voice as his patients for Q had vanished after their first meeting.

"Oh you've always been so persistent. Very well, I'll give you a hint." He said "Do you remember when you first met me?" Q asked his grin widening.

"Of course." Recalled Picard. "You put all of Humanity on trial for crimes of savagery."

"Oh your memory is so vague, I believe my exact words were "grievously savage"!" He answered with a smirk.

"What relevance does that have here?" Demanded Picard, growing annoyed.

Q beamed "Oh my poor handicapped captain! You can't expect me to give you all the answers! However, I'll be watching, and I may even pop in from time to time." He exclaimed with a broad smile before he snapped his fingers and disappeared in a blinding flash of light.

Picard tapped his combadge again. "Mr. Data, would you please get me Starfleet command and patch it through to my ready room."

Commander Keja Hosen entered the large circular laboratory that occupied the largest room onboard the research station deep in empty space, far from any system, let alone an inhabited one. Three starships were on station at all times, two Lakota refit Excelsior's and a Miranda class named Homer, Gozen, and O'Malley respectively. It wasn't serious firepower but enough to deter any that wanted to take a close look. Starfleet was incredibly eager for her and her comrades' work to go as quickly as possible, thusly every request for resources was met almost immediately.

Yet even this unprecedented access to resources did little to expedite their work. To say that reverse engineering the Iconian gate solely from data recovered by the then Commander Sisko and scans of the gate on Pax Indi three before it was destroyed when the war with the Dominion looked untenable, was an understatement.

Despite these setbacks they were proceeding well. They had built a replica of the gate with using material analogues provided by Starfleet and tested it by transferring a land based probe through the gate to the O'Malley with success. The problem was that the gate was only capable of being open for brief moments of time. This made it, at present, to unreliable for interplanetary use. However, the gate was theoretically suitable for starship use and they were working to adapt the gate for ship use.

As Commander Keja walked through the lab Doctor Vladislav approached her.

"Afternoon, would you care to help me out I'm hitting a bit of a wall compensating for the radiation emitted by the warp core on the Gozen." He asked.

"Hmm" Pondered Keja as she thought. "Any new developments in our theoretical models?"

"Not yet, our models show that any portal we open will lead to the stellar coordinates we choose, but there's still a sixteen point seven percent chance of different temporal coordinates."

"Can we control the temporal coordinates? Keep them in sync with our time? I really don't want to have to deal with the Temporal Prime directive on top of our load."

"I don't think so, but we can keep that to a minimum by avoiding contact with life on the other side of the portal before we return."

"Then continue your efforts onboard the Gozen." Sanctioned Keja.

"Understood Ma'am. We should be able to have a test tomorrow afternoon." Complied Vladislav.

Keja went to the replicator and requested a sixteen ounce cup of hot Terran coffee with twice the programmed amount of caffeine. With her cup of the steaming hot elixir of life in hand, she walked across the labs central area towards the conference room. As the doors automatically swooshed she looked into the room. A large oval table, fashioned out of a material made to resemble wood sat in the middle of the room surrounded by ten chairs. Holographic projectors allowed a more immersive and detailed briefing ranging from mere displays one could pass through to interactive renderings of any object imaginable. Three captains sat at every other chair facing the only two doors to the room, From Keja's left to right they were an Andorian male named Kyth, a Vulkan female named T'Mik, as well as a Human male named Hues. All sat perfectly still boring into Keja with their eyes awaiting whatever news she had called them here for.

"Captains," Keja began "Thank you for meeting me here before you ask the questions I'm sure you have I would appreciate the chance to explain the planned sequence of events for the next few days." Keja paused to allow them to stow away their mental note pads.

"As of now we are in the process of outfitting the Gozen, T'Miks ship with our prototype. Once the device is set up we will run it through a series of diagnostics and simulated tests before we perform the first test. If projections are accurate, the first practical test should take place tomorrow afternoon at the earliest, possibly later. The testing area has been provided to you and your first officers to disseminate amongst your crew as you see fit. The Gozen, once prepared, will open a gateway at the specified coordinates targeted one-hundred thousand kilometers directly ahead. This phase of the testing will be completely under T'Miks discretion. Should she feel the test is unsafe or come across unforeseen difficulties she is authorized to immediately terminate the test. Hopefully this won't happen and thus allow us to expedite what has been an undoubtedly boring assignment for your ships crews."

T'Mik was the first to speak "Commander, while your concern for our crews is appreciated and reciprocated towards your staff, we hope that this concern has not lead to undue haste."

Hues spoke up now "I agree, I know that I as well as my crew would rather stay here all over again rather than rush you and your comrades."

"I agree, however if we continue to skirt around the inevitable test like a frightened glacier-mouse than we'll never leave here." Encouraged Kyth. Followed by a round of reserved nods from the other captains. You could test the water all you wanted, but until you jumped in you'd never truly know exactly what could happen.

"Then it is settles. We'll begin the test as soon as we are able. Thank you for your time Captains. If you'll excuse me." Keja made sure to include these last to formalities as she always had in an effort to insure that relations between her staff and the ships captains and crew remained smooth and uneventful. There was nothing left for Keja to do now aside from let her people work, so she took her coffee into her office and began writing her reports to Starfleet Command.

Adept Theoxus lit the incense in his chamber. Stooping down on his augment legs he raised his mechandendrites and single mech-limb in praise to the Omnissiah while first spreading his augment arms out to either side before placing them on his chest to form the Aquila. He now broadcasted his prayers into the digital cloud that whirled around the small outpost like an ever powerful, yet mesmerizingly beautiful storm.

"Praise be to the Emperor of Man, for he is the mighty Avatar of the Omnissiah. Life is directed Motion, this motion is guided by the will of the God-Emperor and the Omnissiah The spirit is the spark of life, only the purest of spirit is worthy of life. Sentience is the ability to learn the value of knowledge, for knowledge is beyond priceless. Intellect is the understanding of knowledge, understand leads down the true path. Sentience is the basest form of intellect, something to be watched in the faithful, and purged in the heretical. Understanding is the true path to comprehension, by following the true path we gain comprehension. Comprehension is the key to all things, true comprehension is gifted by the Omnissiah. The Omnissiah knows all. The Omnissiah comprehends all. The Zenos mechanism is a perversion of the true path, a perversion to be purified by the will of the Omnissiah. The soul is the conscience of sentience, to guide those that walk the true path. A soul can only be bestowed by the Omnissiah for none of the flesh shall possess this ability. The soulless sentience is the enemy of all, take heed of the warnings of the Omnissiah. The knowledge of the ancients is beyond question. The machine spirit guards the knowledge of the ancients, their number is legion, and their vigil is eternal. Flesh is fallible, but ritual honors the machine spirit, to replace the fallible is to perform the Omnissiah's will. By the comprehension of the Omnissiah, the will of the God-Emperor, and by the grace of the Golden throne, Ave Imperator."

Concluding his morning prayer Theoxus stood, his mechandendrites and mech-limb returning to a restful state, his body coursing with the silver flood of the Omnissiah's blessing. He robed himself and dowsed the incense until his return to pray again. The entry pad to his door chirped silently via his neuro-cogitators as a servitor approached. He opened the door and was greeted by a servitor with various diagnostic and mechanical tools marking it as a maintenance servitor.

"My Lord, Lector Bothanus requests your immediate presence." The Servitor spoke in an emotionless purely mechanical voice before Theoxus dismissed it with a Sanctified-Binary burst transmission from his personal vox.

Theoxus began his walk to the Command Center of this Sentinel station. The station was not large by Imperial standards, only two kilometers high it resembled two obelisks joined at their bases by four hangar bays and docking terminals. Each face of the obelisks was equipped with a Macrocannon Battery and numerous point defense batteries, while the points of the Obelisks were massive auspex and auger arrays used by Lector Bothanus and those under her command used to gaze into the void and Immaterium alike for signs of the Imperium's countless foes, as well as anything that might be a boon to the defense of the God-Emperors realm.

Theoxus made his way to the Command Center located in the upper section of the station inverse of where the genetorium housed the massive power generators. He passed dozens of Servetors mindlessly carrying out the endless ritualistic rights of maintenance that kept the station and its defenses operational. He also passed two mechanicus adepts walking towards the genatorium accompanied by a remembrance-skull recording their words and orders. Twenty standard minutes passed until Theoxus reached the Command Center and during that time he devoted a small fraction of his cogitators to reviewing the Lectors record he had access to. Apparently she was an extremely unusual Lector. She had insisted on relying on "Gut-Feelings" when faced with combat. Many had proven accurate that she was investigated by the Inquisition. She had been proven not guilty, but as any and all know "Innocence proves nothing." These two circumstances had seen her relative banishment to this posting in void space on the fringe of the Ultima Segmentum and the Segmentum Solar. He finally reached the Command Center and entered through two blast doors into Command Center. The Room was relatively large and almost every surface was covered by panels and those that weren't were statues of the God-Emperor and numerous icons of Mechanicum history and beliefs that were sacred to Theoxus.

In the center of the room stood a lone robed figure, three large mech-arms were poised for balance while its mechandendrite tentacles all implanted within ports in panels that surrounded it. When Theoxus entered to room the figure withdrew all of its tentacles and raised its mech-arms into a restful state behind it as it turned to face him. It spoke to him in a hauntingly feminine mechanical voice.

"Adept Theoxus, step forward." Lector Bothanus commanded. Theoxus stepped forward until he was within two meters of his superior.

"You ordered my presence, Lector Bothanus." The adept reported his presence to her awaiting instruction.

"Adept Theoxus, you are aware of my record, and thus my reason for this posting. You may harbor disdain for my "Hunches" as they have been named, but your opinion is irrelevant, especially when you hear my following orders." The Lector spoke with loathing authority.

"I understand Lector Bothanus."

"Adept Theoxus, you will immediately prepare one of our reconnaissance vessels and stand ready to immediately depart on my order."

"Lector Bothanus, have the holy arrays detected something?"

"Not yet, however I suspect that this is going to change."

"Understood, Lector Bothanus."

"Have you been told of the Hellena Sector's reemergence from being isolated from the Imperium?"

"No Lector Bothanus, I was not informed of this." Replied Theoxus as surprise twitched through his mechandendrites.

"The Imperium lost contact with the Hellena Sector seven thousand standard years ago. The Sector has since been renamed the Spartan Sector in honor of the local Adeptus Astartes chapter, the Spartans."

Theoxus contemplated this news. An entire new sector for the Imperium? With a force of Astartes too. The Imperium could use every loyal body and billet it had against the Emperors and Omnissiah's foes.

"Lector Bothanus, Are these new subjects loyal? And how many Forge Worlds are in this sector? And what of the Astartes."

"Allegedly there is a force of fourteen-thousand Adeptus Astartes along with several Imperial Guard Regiments. There are reportedly 17 forge worlds. One other thing; the Spartan sector is only 4 days travel from here to the Galactic east, and they have dispatched what they call an Assault-Team to come here and collect a copy of our data that we've gathered." Added Bothanus.

Theoxus was almost shocked. Fourteen-thousand Astartes in a single chapter? Surely the Inquisition wouldn't tolerate that large of a chapter. What had forced the creation of such a large Chapter?

"Prepare your ship Adept Theoxus."

"Understood, Lector Bothanus." With that, Theoxus turned and left. His flesh-mind consumed in curiosity over how she could be so sure, frustration and anger that she could allow this weakness to influence her decisions so greatly, yet embracing the raw and soothing machine-logic of the situation. Bothanus was right, his opinion of her decision making process was irrelevant, for now. Her orders, and therefore his duties were clear.

Her combadge chirped and Commander Keja tapped it in response.

"What is it?"

The voice of Doctor Vladislav came through "Commander, I have good news. We've completed the outfitting of the Gozen ahead of schedule. We can test the gate-drive as soon as you command."

"Excellent Commander, have you completed your theoretical tests?" Inquired Keja.

We are running the final simulations now, so far projections are resoundingly successful, specifically ninety-seven point eight percent success." Reported Vladislav eagerly.

"I'll be in the laboratory shortly, I'll meet you there."

"Understood, Ma'am, I'll be waiting." Concluded Vladislav as he signed out.

Keja got up from her chair and left her office. Once in the Laboratory she walked to the center of the Laboratory. She was surrounded by displays, the only two she was interested in were the two that showed a display of the local space and another that displayed a view of the Gozen.

Captain T'Mik, are you ready to initiate the Test?"

Captain T'Mik turned to the view screen, "Yes, Commander. We are ready to proceed with the test at your Command."

"Proceed with your test Captain." Ordered Keja.

"Acknowledged. All hands yellow alert, prepare to activate the Iconian Drive. Helm, take us to a minimum distance of ten thousand kilometers from the station." Ordered T'Mik.

A brief moment passed before her second in command, Commander Turner, reported "All stations report ready."

"Captain, we are on station." Reported Ensign Halloran.

"Activate the Iconian Drive." Ordered T'Mik.

The lights of the bridge dimmed as the enormous amount of power needed to fuel the drive was diverted to it. The view screen showed a single ripple of space that coalesced into the stars shimmering and then a blinding white light began to form and grow.

"Captain" Reported Ensign Born at Ops. "There's a phase differential causing an energy build up throughout our sys-"

Before Born could finish an explosion of sparks erupted from the Ops console and threw ensign Born from the station. A red alert claxon began to blare.

"Report!" Shouted T'Mik over the din.

Commander Turner shouted in return "There's a massive energy build up in the core! It's going to breach!"

"Captain T'Mik, Report!" Demanded Commander Keja. She got no response. She watched the view screen as the gateway continued to grow, now over one kilometer in diameter.

"Commander, at the gateways current rank of expansion the gateway will reach 100 kilometers in 2 minutes."

"Captain T'Mik, we are not receiving anything from you, if you can hear us you must deactivate the drive!" She then turned from the view screen T'Mik had been on before they lost contact, jamming a finger at one of the officers in the lab. "Get me the Gozen five minutes ago!"

"Aye Ma'am."

Explosions rippled throughout the bulkheads and consoles of the bride as relays overloaded.

T'Mik shouted over the cries of crewmen and explosions "Engineering! What's the status of the core?"

T'Mik was greeted with a com channel full of explosions and more screaming and her chief engineer, Kyle Flyn, shouting over it all "The cores about to breach! We can't stop it! We're evacuating main engineering! We have to eject the core now!"

"Eject the Core!" Shouted T'Mik.

"Ejecting, the core is clear!" Reported Turner.

"Move us awa-" T'Mik began to shout before a sudden movement caught her eye as it moved towards her and then everything went black.

Commander Keja's stomach shriveled as she watched the Gozen eject her Warp Core and slowly move away.

"Open a channel to all hands on all ships." She ordered.

"Channel Open Ma'am."

"All hands brace for Warp Core Breach Shockwave!"

Keja watched as the Warp core lost containment and detonated. A massive spherical shockwave bloomed from where the core had once been, chasing the Gozen. Just when she thought the Gozen would get clear, the shockwave caught her and sent her into an uncontrolled X-axis spin while the Gozen rotated on her Z-axis. Plasma venting from her port Nacelle. Then, the Station shook violently as the shockwave hit them.

"Report?" Keja demanded.

"All systems functional, the other ships are operational, but the Gozen has suffered heavy damage and is requesting immediate assistance. The Gateway is-is still there."

"What do you mean it's still there? It should have destabilized and dissipated without the drive." Wondered Deja.

"That's not all Ma'am. The Gateway is now almost sixty Kilometers across and readings suggest it is stable."

This didn't make any sense. It should have disappeared. Keja had to set that on the back burner for now. She had bigger fish to fry.

Adept Theoxus was receiving reports from the Servo-skulls of his ship when airlock alarms began to blare. Interested he paused and turned to see what was happening. He watched the massive doors of the airlock open and witnessed ten figures exit. All figures stood eight feet tall. A full six inches taller than the average Astartes. _Possible Gene manipulation? Or mutation?_ All were glad in bronze painted terminator armor, their left arms were painted completely black. Their armor was buffed to a high shine with occasional battle damage they obviously wore with pride. On their chests was the Imperial Aquila, however instead of the customary two-headed eagle or skull, the wings came together on either side of a helmet similar to the ones they wore and was obviously inspired by their helmets, or more likely the inspiration for their helmets. They each bore massive shields adorn with intricate engraving. Bolters mounted to their wrists and each carried a staffed weapon he hadn't seen before. He ran analytical algorithms and traced its basic appearance to that of a Halberd. Only these were clearly outfitted with power-blades. Crimson capes rippled behind the Astartes as they walked through the Hangar bays towards the main access point to the rest of the station. Their helmets were not standard issue either. They were stoic and almost uninterrupted bronze painted plating save holes for their optical sensors and a vertical rectangular grilled maw. Each member wore laurels on their helmet of various size and intricacy. Only the lead Astartes bore a single large crimson mane mounted to his armor above his helmet in combination with his highly intricate laurels. He was obviously the leader. He bore no shield or what seemed to be a Power-Halberd. Instead he carried a massive two-handed power sword and wore a wrist mounted storm-bolter. But before he could observe more he received a bust transmission from Bothanus.

"Adept Theoxus, proceed immediately to the following coordinates, an anomaly has appeared but does not appear to be connected to the Immaterium. Investigate. You have discretion to enter the anomaly if you deem it worth."

"Understood Lector Bothanus." Replied Theoxus as he turned to board his ship. The coordinates Bothanus had sent him were less than twelve hours away at his vessels best speed. _How had Bothanus known? She had no evidence, no logical basis to order his preparation to travel. She obviously didn't even know what was going to happen. But even so there was only one explanation. Lector Bothanus must have been some sort of Pre-Cog._

Theoxus was approached by a servitor as he entered his ship. "Initiate final preparations. We depart immediately." He ordered, and was greeted with immediate compliance.

T'Mik pulled herself up from the rubble strewn floor of her bridge. "Report" She asked, wincing at what she guessed to be a fractured rib.

Commander Turner answered "We've sustained heavy damage, the warp core was ejected and detonated. We've lost communications with decks three through seven. Main engineering reports EPS relays have blown throughout the ship. We're on emergency power only, life support is at sixty percent. The coils in the port nacelle have completely fused. Sickbay reports no fatalities yet, but numerous critical injuries. We're drifting. I took the liberty of transmitting aid requests to the Homer and the O'Malley."

T'Mik wanted control of her ship back. "Helmsman, get us back to the research station."

"The helm isn't responding." Grunted ensign Born through an obviously broken arm.

"Engineering, I need helm control." Ordered T'Mik.

"We're a little busy down here captain!" Shouted Chief engineer Flyn. "We've got plasma fires throughout engineering, I'll get back to you in a minute!"

Turner grunted "Ma'am, I have Commander Keja on screen."

Keja was disturbed by what she saw on screen, Captain T'Mik had a large laceration on her head, there were scorch marks on what was visible of the bridge, no primary lighting source could be discerned, instead a few emergency lights illuminated what she could see. Crewmembers ran frantically back and forth behind T'Mik. Her first officer was clutching his side in obvious pain.

"Report, Captain."

T'Mik was ragged in her reply. "We've lost all but emergency power, no helm control and numerous wounded. We need immediate assistance."

Keja barely waited for her to finish before replying "The Homer and O'Malley are already en route to you, they should be on scene momentarily to evacuate your wounded."

"Thank you Commander, What of the Gateway?" asked T'Mik.

"We don't know why, but it's still there and is almost sixty kilometers in diameter. It appears to be stable. We're beginning our analysis but the first priority is you and your crew." Answered Keja.

Keja turned to her staff "Dispatch to Starfleet command via Subspace. Message begins: First test failure. The Gozen is severely damaged. Request assistance."


	2. II

_**The Strongest Kind of Fear is the Fear of the Unknown**_

Picard awoke to his com system beeping. He rolled over half asleep and tapped the button and Data's voice came through.

"Captain, I'm sorry to bother you. There's an incoming transmission from Starfleet Command, Code-47."

"Patch it through Number-One." Spoke Picard as he got out of bed and put on his robe.

His screen flashed to life. "Admiral Janeway, to what do I owe the pleasure." Said Picard through a smile.

"Jean-luc, I wish things could be better, I've got new orders for you." Janeway spoke through a warm smile.

"What's wrong?" Prompted Picard.

"You're to head to the coordinates were transmitting you immediately. There's been an accident."

Picard put two and two together "The Gateway project?" He asked.

"Given your encounter with Q after Commander Keja contacted you we want you there in case he's involved in this."

"Admiral, what happened to the Gateway?" Picard asked.

"Their first test failed. It's opened a large portal that hasn't dissipated. One of the ships on station is severely damaged and needs immediate assistance. Get there and stay on station until we order otherwise." Janeway ordered.

"Understood Admiral."

Janeway smiled, then ended the conversation with a crisp "Janeway Out." And the screen cut to black.

Picard tapped the Combutton on his desk, "Bridge, Set course to the coordinates provided by Starfleet and engage and maximum warp. All Senior Officers report to the observation lounge in thirty minutes."

T'Mik stood on the main bridge of the Gozen, soot still covered most of the bridge and red flashes of the alert still strobed though the claxon had been silenced some time ago. Commander Turner had returned to sickbay after the EMH had splinted and slung his arm. The EMH had insisted on repairing the damage, however Turner had refused such a long procedure stating that the crew would be treated first, than he would allow himself to be treated. He now stood with her towards the rear of the bridge in front of the ships display. Normally it would have been uniformly blue, but it was strewn with various red indicators representing damaged systems.

"Auxiliary power is online and the generators are holding. Life support is operating at full power and the Plasma fires in engineering are taken care of, but the damage is still extensive. The entire Port nacelle is fused, we won't be able to go to warp and we need a dry-dock to replace the nacelle. Weapons systems and shields are offline. Most of our wounded have been taken to the O'Malley and Homer. The only wounded still on board are us and those too critical to move, and those are being treated by the doctor and EMH. Impulse power is down, we only have maneuvering thrusters."

T'Mik nodded. Most of the crew had been injured to some degree, but ninety-seven had been seriously wounded with forty-one of them being critically so.

"T'Mik to Engineering" Called T'Mik after tapping her combadge.

"This is Flyn." Answered her Chief Engineer.

"Mr. Flyn, I want those impulse engines operation as soon as possible."

"Working on it, Captain. But those fires did a job on our instruments, it's taken us five hours just to get our systems to where they are." Flyn warned.

"I don't want excuses, Mr. Flyn."

"Of course you don't, Ma'am. So we'll have impulse engines in another five hours. Shields and Phasers should be online two hours after that. Captain, The explosion caused massive structural damage to torpedo bay. I recommend extremely caution ships movement, especially since the inertial dampers are offline. One sudden move to cause a chain detonation of our torpedoes."

"Understood Mr. Flyn, well done so far." Ended T'Mik as she tapped her combadge again. "Mr. Halloran, set a course for the station, bring us about slowly, the inertial dampers are still offline."

"Aye, Ma'am." Answered Halloran as he ever so gently brought the bow of the heavily damaged Excelsior class ship around trailing plasma the whole way.

"Ma'am, Commander Keja is hailing us." Reported Halloran.

"On Screen." Ordered T'Mik. And the black screen was replaced with Keja's face and staff hurried this way and that behind her.

"Captain, what's your status?" Asked Keja.

"We're on minimal power and inertial dampers are offline. But we've stabilized the situation. We're making our way to the station now and I request permission to dock with the station to allow our wounded to be treated onboard." Reported T'Mik.

"Permission granted, Captain. You have priority command of docking. Be advised we're going to launch a probe through the gateway momentarily."

"Understood. T'Mik out."

"Is the probe ready?" Asked Keja.

"Yes Ma'am. The two probes are ready to be launched to relay telemetric data." Reported her staff.

"Launch the probes." Ordered T'Mik.

The probes rocketed towards the gateway. Beta probe reached its destination outside the gateway on their side and began transmitting testing signals. When Keja and her staff confirmed the signals between the two probes and the station were functioning properly Alpha probe passed through the gateway.

"Are we getting telemetry from Alpha Probe?" Asked Keja.

"Telemetry coming in now Commander. According to the probes sensors-" Vladislav trailed off.

"What's wrong?" Asked Keja.

"According to the probes sensors, the other side of the gateway is over thirty-eight thousand years in the future." Spoke Vladislav incredulously.

"Verify." Ordered Keja. _Thirty-eight thousand years? That can't be right. Even in the simulations the drives temporal deviation was only by a century or two. This has to be a malfunction._

"Confirmed. The Gateway leads to the special coordinates we specified, but it's thirty-eight thousand years in the future." Reported Vladislav.

 _Great, how can we enforce the Temporal Primer Directive with races thirty-eight thousand years beyond us in technology?_

"Commander, Alpha probe is picking up a vessel approaching." Reported Vladislav.

"Is it in visual range?" Asked Keja.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Show it on the main monitor." Ordered Keja. The next thing she saw caused dread to well up inside her like a geyser. The vessel shown was intimidating. A large craft with a square shaped prow was approaching the probe at high speed. On the vessels prow was a massive skull. Half of it appeared human, the other half was mechanical. Surrounding the skull was a massive gear. The vessel had two wings swept down and forward at the rear of the ship on either side of the Massive Engines. The vessels hull was studded with turrets and some sort of missile pods.

"What kind of ship is that?" Asked Vladislav.

"Get me the dimensions of that vessel." Ordered Keja.

"The vessel is four-hundred meters long, one-hundred and fifty meters wide. It seems to be driven by some sort of plasma-drive. The probes sensors can't penetrate the hull. The hull appears to be made of some sort of neutronium alloy with metals we can't identify." Reported Vladislav with disbelief evident in his voice.

Keja couldn't blame him, that vessel was slightly smaller than the Excelsiors stationed here. But the armor was incredible. Neutronium was the strongest material in terms of armor technology Starfleet knew of. They still couldn't mass produce it. The fact that this vessel was so well armed and armored meant that this was some sort of warship. She hoped that the apparently half human skull meant that it was operated by humans or a species evolved from humans. That would allow them a common point to communicate through.

"How long until it will arrive at the probes coordinates?" Asked Keja.

"Seven hours at the most." Reported Vladislav.

"Get me Star Fleet Command." Ordered Keja.

Captain Marcus Ovidious disembarked from his Cobra-class Destroyer. This was the second time he was boarding the Mechanicus Posting. He had meted with Lector Bothanus and she had given him access to their cogitators without objection. The transfer of data was almost over, but now Bothanus had requested an audience with him. He obliged her, she had given them access to her information, but now she undoubtedly wanted information from him.

Ovidious walked through the doors and was greeted by Bothanus facing the doorway.

"Please enter Captain Marcus Ovidious of the Spartans." Spoke Bothanus in her mechanical voice.

"Greetings, Lector Bothanus." Spoke Ovidious as he removed his helmet.

"Captain Marcus Ovidious of the Spartans, I have some questions for you concerning your fellow Astartes." Spoke Bothanus in turn.

"Very well." Answered Ovidious, reluctant to play the part of school teacher. "What are your questions?"

"Is it true that the Spartans number fourteen-thousand astartes strong?" asked Bothanus.

"Yes it is." Answered Ovidious "We are organized into twenty-eight Grand Companies, each five-hundred strong. Some Grand Companies are organized into Holy Maniples, each one-thousand Spartans strong. And some of those Maniples are organized into Sacred Corps."

"Tell me, who is your leader?" Asked Bothanus.

"We are led by Spartan-Ultimate Quintus Spartacus Valerius." Ovidious declared, feeling his chest swell with pride beneath the chest plate of his Terminator Armor.

"And what of you and your company of nine others. What body of organization within the Spartans are you part of?" asked Bothanus.

"I am Captain of the twenty-eighth Grand Company. I lead the First Assault Team, we are one of twenty-five assault teams. The other two-hundred and fifty brothers of the Grand Company are rotated back to the Monolith to train recruits." Answered Ovidious.

"Curious. How did your chapter come to its current size?" Inquired Bothanus.

"It was ordained by the founders." Answered Ovidious. Bothanus gazed into his eyes with her optical augments. He met her steely augments in an unflinching, unrevealing glare of his own.

"Very well. I thank you, Captain Marcus Ovidious of the Spartans." Spoke Bothanus as she turned back and her mechandendrites began to plug back into the interfaces.

"We are going to resupply, then return to the Spartan Sector." Announced Ovidious as he turned to leave.

"Very well." Called Bothanus as Ovidious left.

Captain Picard to the bridge please."

Picard stood from examining the latest images of the ship approaching the gateway. He walked through the door of his ready room and entered the main bridge. As he walked to his seat he asked for a report.

"We're thirty minutes from the Coordinates." Answered Data. Before he could say anything else there was a blinding flash of light and 10 men materialized on his bridge.

All men were armed with rifles of some sort and clad in grey trench coats and plated armor. They wore gasmasks and some sort of helmet. In the center of the bridge stood a man in a black and red trench coat. He wore an armored gasmask and a peaked black hat with red trim. The hat bore a golden two headed eagle. The man was armed with some sort of pistol and a sword with teeth.

"Intruder alert! Security teams to the bridge!" yelled Worf as he drew his phaser.

"Secure this room!" Shouted the man in the hat with the toothed sword.

The men immediately opened fire without a word. Ruby laser beams erupted from their weapons and burned holes in the bulkheads. Two of his bridge officers were killed. Worf closed with the leader. Worf punched the man in the gasmask and caused him to stagger. Worf used this pause to strike him again in the chest with a flat palm and then kicked him in the chest. The leader of these intruders drew his sword and triggered it somehow. It roared to life and he swung it at Worf who ducked. But the man used his momentum to spin around and catch Worf in the stomach. The roaring teeth chewed into Worf's stomach. Worf cried out in pain and looked up at the man's mask.

The man leaned in and shouted through his mask "Die Zenos Scum!" The weapon finally chewed through Worf's body and cut him in half spreading gore across the floor.

"Do not resist!" Shouted the leader. As Worf's blood dripped from his weapons teeth.

"Do as he says!" Shouted Picard in horror at what he had just witnessed. The bridge suddenly became silent as the fighting stopped.

"Three are dead including the Zenos you slayed. The room is secure, Commissar." Reported one of the men.

"Outstanding work Guardsman." Said the masked leader.

"Who are you?" Demanded Picard, standing in outrage at the slaying of his crew. All of the "Guardsmen" immediately trained their weapons on him. The man took off his mask revealing a middle aged human man. A man he recognized.

"I am Commissar Q!" Announced Q with a joyful grin on his face.

"Q! I demand you end this barbarity!" shouted Picard at the top of his lungs as he stormed forward. The guardsmen closed on him their weapons trained. Q put up his hand and the guardsmen stopped moving.

"Or what?" asked Q. "You're completely outgunned and outmatched."

"What do you want?" asked Picard, unable to keep his eyes from darting back to Worf's bisected form.

"I want you to see what lies beyond your universe." Answered Q stepping forward as he snapped his fingers. All of the masked Guardsmen vanished in flashes of light. Worf's body vanished in light and he appeared again behind his station, unharmed. Worf reached down and felt his stomach where the weapon had cut through him. He looked up at Q in rage and roared.

"Oh calm down, Micro-brain!" dismissed Q.

"What do you mean "Lies beyond our universe?" Q?" Asked Picard.

"You primitive humans are so narrow." Mocked Q. "The mirror universe you encountered isn't the only mirror. There are incomprehensibly numerous mirror universes each one different."

"What does that have to do with this barbarity you've committed against us?" asked Picard.

"I've shown you this little display to show you how dangerous the universes can be." Answered Q with a smug look of superiority.

"How dangerous are they Q?" Asked Picard glaring at Q. Q's smug look suddenly vanished and his face became serious in the extreme. Still wearing his "Commissar" uniform he took five steps until his face was a mere foot from Picard's.

"There are some universes that even the Q don't dare to enter." He spoke in a hushed low voice. This troubled Picard. _How can a universe be so dangerous that a race of omnipotent beings fear for their lives?_

"This has to do with the Gateway doesn't it?" Asked Picard.

"Finally you humans use your limited cranial capacity for something other than killing each other." Proclaimed Q.

"What can you tell us about this universe?" Asked Picard.

"Only that you are completely and utterly unprepared to face the horrors within. If my little show disturbed you," Q leaned in and whispered in Picard's ear "You will not survive." And he vanished in a flash of blinding light.

Adept Theoxus peered through the ships sensoriums. Interfacing with them via his mechendendrites he gazed into the void as he would with his own visual augments. The anomaly was a flat disk of rippling white energy sixty kilometers in diameter. Twenty kilometers away from the center of the anomaly was a small device. The sensoriums couldn't detect any signs of life Human or otherwise. _Whatever this is it is clearly spying on Imperial space. However, this could be some sort of Mechanicus experiment. Or worse, something of the Inquisition's working._

He cast his voice at the object with his Vox "Unknown vessel: Identify yourself and your mission or be destroyed. You have ten seconds to comply."

When the vessel didn't respond, its fate was sealed. Through his mechendendrites he turned his attention to the numerous Lascannon turrets that studded his hull. This vessel was too small and the generator too weak to mount anything of higher caliber or power. With a single thought he armed the turrets and directed a storm of las-fire at the spy.

Keja watched as the Skull vessel slowed and closed with Alpha probe.

"Hail them." Ordered Keja.

A moment passed "No Response." Announced Vladislav. "In fact, there's no indication of transmissions of any sort."

Puzzled Keja was about to order Vladislav to broadcast on all frequencies, but before she could do this dozens of crimson laser beams erupted from the vessels weapons and the picture went to static.

"Time to arrival?" Asked Picard from the Captain's chair.

"One Minute." Reported Data.

"Slow to impulse, put the Gateway onscreen." Ordered Picard as he stood and approached the view screen. The suddenly showed the research station a Miranda class ship, and two Lakota-Refit Excelsior class ships. One of which was docked with the station and venting drive plasma from its port Nacelle.

"Sir," Interrupted Data "We're being hailed by the station."

"On Screen"

"Captain, our probe was just destroyed by the unknown approaching vessel. We're at Red Alert and I recommend you do the same." Spoke Keja visibly concerned.

"Understood, we'll position ourselves between you and the Anomaly. Helm, make it so." Ordered Picard as Keja was replaced with the viewer ahead.

"Aye Captain." Complied Ensign Smith. _The vessel destroyed a probe. Well the gateway does lead over thirty-eight thousand years in the future. It could be possible that they were defending their territory from a perceived spy. Whoever "they" are._

"We're in position, Sir." Reported Smith.

"Hold this position." Ordered Picard "Red alert; All hands Battle stations." Called out Picard. The lighting dimmed and red lights began to strobe as the alert claxon blared throughout the ship.

T'Mik couldn't believe this. Battle Stations, with what? The Gozen just wasn't capable of maneuvering yet, let alone fighting. The Homer and O'Malley were already maneuvering alongside the newly arrived Enterprise.

"Move us away from the station." She touched the com button on her captain's chair. "Mr. Flyn. What's the status on our systems?" T'Mik asked.

"Inertial Dampers are online. I can give you half impulse. Phasers are online at thirty percent and you have torpedoes." Reported Flyn.

 _Outstanding, we can at least do damage before we're destroyed._

"Maneuver us alongside the Enterprise." Ordered T'Mik.

Theoxus moved his ship into the anomaly, unsure of what he would find, but the True Path isn't a safe path. As the disturbances cleared, he was greeted by four vessels and some sort of space station. All save one of the vessels were larger than his, and one of those larger was obviously heavily damaged.

Theoxus called out through the Vox "This is Explorator vessel U-S-9749371. Identify yourselves."

He was met with static. His sensoriums showed that they were running at full power. They also detected numerous Zenos life signs aboard all of the vessels and space station. However there were also humans throughout all of the vessels. He maneuvered in front of each ship and moved from bow to stern of each as he peered into them with his sensoriums.

Picard was puzzled. The vessel had destroyed the probe without pause, yet now it wasn't doing anything. Just maneuvering throughout the ships. First moving in front of each ship, and then after a while, moving from stem to stern of each ship.

"They're scanning us, Sir." Reported Worf. "Should we raise shields?"

"No, we won't take a threatening posture." Ordered Picard.

T'Mik was confused, the ship destroyed the probe but was now just looking around.

"The ship is scanning us." Reported Turner.

"Let them take a good look. Take no action that could be misconstrued as hostile."

The vessel moved away and began to approach the station. When it was two kilometers away it stopped moving and just stayed there.

"Captain, I've got sensor readings inside that ship. The armor plating isn't as thick around the command center." Reported Worf.

"Report." Ordered Picard.

"There are confusing life signs throughout the areas we can scan. They appear, Borg." Spoke Worf.

"I've never seen a Borg vessel like that. Number One, take an away team over, minimum compliment." Ordered Picard.

"Yes, sir." Complied Data as he left the Bridge.

Data entered the transporter room with two others, Worf and Lieutenant Jacobs, both armed with Phasers.

"We have the coordinates and can transport whenever you're ready." Advised the Transporter officer.

"Very well," acknowledged Data as he and the others stepped onto the transporter platform.

"Number One, maintain an open com channel and narrate what you see." Ordered Picard through the comchannel.

"Understood captain. Energize." Ordered Data and the transporter room was replaced with a corridor.

"Captain," Spoke data as he drew his tricorder. "We are in a corridor five meters wide and eight meters tall. The walls of the hallway appear to be made of stone and are covered in iconography relating to machinery and various figures of obvious importance. The hallway is lit by torches of some sort and the air is heavy with incense."

Picard was confused. This ship was from the far future, but its interior was built of stone, it used lasers, rockets and was lit by torches. This didn't make any sense.

"Proceed with caution, Number One." Cautioned Picard, Q's bloody demonstration still in his mind.

"Understood, Captain. We are detecting numerous human life signs, but they are, strange. They almost seem Borg. We are moving towards what we believe to be the command center." Data continued to narrate as he, Worf and Jacobs began to move down the hallway. Suddenly a skull flew past their heads. The skull was human, but there were numerous wires and mechanical arms connected to it and the skulls eyes glowed red.

"Captain, a mechanized human skull just flew past us." Reported Data.

"Say that again, Number One. It sounded like you said Human Skull." Requested Picard.

"Affirmative Captain, a human skull with numerous mechanical modifications the tricorder confirms it's human." Confirmed Data. He could understand Picard's concern, any race that used human skulls as some sort of drone was undoubtedly dangerous. They reached the end of the hall and found a large doorway. The doors were open and they could see into the room beyond.

"Captain, we have reached the end of the corridor and are at the entrance to the command center. It's a circular room lined with monitors with figures walking all around a lone robed figure standing in the room. The figures are heavily augmented and are unresponsive to us." Reported Data.

"Clarify, how are they augmented?" Asked Picard.

"They look like Borg, but they are missing key characteristics. They are all human, but we've also never seen drones this heavily augmented. The being in the center is clad in a crimson robe and has a number of mechanical tentacles coming from its back along with a single large mechanical arm." Narrated Data.

He began to approach the figure, entering the room he walked until he was ten feet from the figure, outside the reach of his tentacles.

"Greetings, I am Commander Data of the Federation Starship Enterprise. We mean you no Harm." Announced Data, Worf and Jacobs standing behind him in a "V" formation.

Theoxus turned suddenly, the voice was not a Servitor. He withdrew his mechandendrites from their interfaces and raised his Mech-arm to the high and ready, activating his combat sub-routines.

"Identify your servants!" Theoxus demanded.

"These men are not my servants," Spoke the being, he gestured to his left toward the human "This is Lieutenant Jacobs, and this Is Lieutenant Commander Worf. I am-"

"Abominable" interrupted Theoxus, rage coursing through his augmented Body. "You are Abominable Intelligence and you and this Zenos filth have enslaved this human." He ordered his Combat servitors to his side through his neural cogitators.

"Sir, I am an android. By definition I am an automaton, my intelligence has been a subject of debate. But I can assure you we did not come here to harm you. My compatriot is a Klingon, he is part of an organization called the United Federation of Planets." Data spoke quickly trying to diffuse the situation.

Theoxus paused. _This anomaly must lead to the past! This "Federation of Planets" must be the ancient Federation from the Dark Age of Technology. This Man of Iron seems oddly preoccupied with the notion of peace. Perhaps I can use this to obtain their technology for the Mechanicus._ He ordered the servitors to stand down, he deactivated his combat sub-routines and lowered his mech arm.

"I am Adept Theoxus of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Faithful servant of the Omnissiah and the God-Emperor of Mankind." Theoxus announced as he held his arms open.

Data didn't need an emotion chip to understand that this sudden change in attitude was shocking, but a pleasing development.

"Adept, would you care to accompany me to my ship? I believe my Captain would better be able to answer your questions than I." Asked Data.

The machine man didn't answer for a brief moment. Before his arms fell by his side and he spoke.

"That would be acceptable." And he began walking toward them. "Where is your shuttle?"

"We did not take a shuttle, sir. Data to Enterprise, Four to beam aboard." When the transport was completed Theoxus spoke once more.

"Take me to your Captain."

Picard, his new counselor Lieutenant Margaret Schneider, and Lieutenant Commander La Forge were waiting in the Observation Lounge when Data, Worf and the visitor walked in. Picard had to consciously make an effort to keep his poker face when he saw this "Adept Theoxus." He stood as did Schneider and La Forge, and he extended his arm toward a chair next to him. Theoxus walked to it, but did not sit, only standing. Picard could see this man's face for the first time. If one could call it a face, the only skin left was covering the bridge of his nose. His mouth and jaw had been completely replaced by mechanisms that Picard couldn't determine the purpose of. His eyes were replaced by five large sensors that glowed green. Hoses and wires snaked from his next to various places under his robes while his dozen tentacles and single large robotic arm remained arched behind him in a state of restful-readiness.

"My name is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the United Federation of Planets. I am captain of this vessel, the U.S.S. Enterprise. These are Lieutenant Commander La Forge my Chief Engineer, and Lieutenant Margaret Schneider, Ships Counselor. I have many questions for you Adept, However I think it would only be far and in the best interest of promoting a cultural exchange if we alternated asking questions of the other. As my guest I extend the first question to you should you approve of this." Welcomed Picard.

"I thank you, Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the United Federation of Planets, for your hospitality. Tell me, will the Zenos and Abominable Intelligence be present?"

Picard was concerned about the terms Theoxus applied to his first officer and his chief of security. His voice was disconcerting as well, it was so robotic, but traces of a personality broke through.

"Yes, they will be present, I assure you they are both outstanding officers and embody the highest moral standards. I have trusted them both with my life many times." Encourage Picard, hoping to negate his obviously prejudiced views towards his officers as quickly as possible.

"If you don't mind my asking Adept Theoxus," inquired Schneider "Why do you refer to Commander Data as "Abominable Intelligence" and Lieutenant Worf as "Zenos?"

"The Imperium of man is at war with every Zenos race with one exception. All are sworn enemies and constantly attempt to bring extinction to Humanity." Answered Theoxus. "Abominable Intelligence is one of the greatest Tech-Heresies that can be committed. The God-Emperor and Fabricator General decreed this by the Treaty of Olympus signed at the Imperium's Birth."

"Adept, you have answered us, I hope we may now answer a question of yours." Prompted Picard when Theoxus offered no further details. The fact that this "Imperium of Man" was under constant attack could easily lead to xenophobia, as to why artificial intelligence was banned, or called "Tech-Heresy" Picard had no Idea.

"How extensive is this United Federation of Planets? What is its capital? How long has its banner stood? What of your military?" asked Theoxus.

Picard was pleased, perhaps they could move beyond taking turns and actually carry a conversation. However he remained guarded and alert with regards to Theoxus' seemingly innocent question about Starfleet's military.

"The United Federation of Planets spans over one-hundred and fifty worlds of diverse sentient races, its capital is based on Earth and has stood for over four centuries. We have survived largescale invasions and regrettably waged war against several species. Our chief enemy is the Borg, a single collective of enhanced beings who forcibly assimilate entire species to serve the collective. We have battled extensively with the Dominion, the Romulan Star Empire, the Klingon Empire and the Cardassians and we still stand. We have even signed a treaty with the Klingon Empire." Answered Picard, purposely evading the question while trying to puff up their military power by listing their past enemies.

Picard Spoke "Adept, What can you tell us about this "Imperium of Man?"

Theoxus' tentacles visibly tensed with pride as he spoke. "The Imperium of Man dominates the Galaxy. It is ruled by the God-Emperor of Mankind, our undying lord and Avatar of the Omnissiah. The God Emperor founded the Imperium of Man over ten thousand years ago during the Great Crusade. He united all of man's worlds lost to the Age of Stri-" Before Theoxus could finish the ship suddenly shook.

Picard slapped his combadge "Picard to Bridge, report!"

"Eight Romulan warbirds have decloaked and are firing on us."

"Adept Theoxus if you'll excuse us." Picard spoke hastily as he excused himself.

"Captain, if you'll permit me, I'd like to observe you during combat. I will not interfere, you have my word as an Adept of the Mechanicus." Promised Theoxus.

"Very well" Spoke Picard as he walked out of the Conference room and towards the Main Bridge.

Theoxus was startled by the attack, but only momentarily. Chems immediately began to course through his Silver-flood as he followed this bald captain out of their lounge towards their Bridge. Theoxus wasn't impressed with this ship so far, however he reserved judgement until he had seen it in its entirety. As they entered the Bridge he saw consoles manned unaugmented humans and Zenos alike. Theoxus had to repress his urge to cleanse the zenos filth from his sight. He walked next to Picard on the opposite side of the one they called Data and activated the mag-locks on his Augment feet.

"Show me the Warbirds." Ordered Picard. Shortly afterwards Theoxus saw eight large green birdlike vessels appear on their primary display. All weaving as they approached with green bolts of light emanating from what appeared to be the head of the bird and obviously the primary crew section. Four of the "Warbirds" as these Federations called them broke off the attack and moved on his ship. The other four moved on towards the Anomaly.

"Theoxus to Servitors," He called out through his Vox caster "Activate combat subroutines, engage and purge the designated Zenos ships."

"Captain, the unknown vessel is moving to engage the Romulans." Reported the Zenos they called Worf.

"Captain, I've ordered my Servitors to purge these Romulans from this space." Announced Theoxus.

"Helm adjust course heading 358 mark 008. Mr. Worf take out the weapons arrays on the four ships attacking Theoxus' vessel." Ordered Picard as he tapped a small display.

"Phasers had no Effect" reported Worf.

"Torpedoes." Ordered Picard as the ship was rocked by multiple hits from the Romulan weapons.

"My Lord, Zenos have teleported onboard, they've overwhelmed the Servitors on the bridge and sealed the entrance." Reported one of the nameless many on Theoxus' ship via the Vox.

"Overload the Plasma-Generators! Destroy the ship!" Theoxus all but shouted through the Vox.

"Captain, Zenos have boarded my ship, I've ordered my Servitors to overload the generators, I suggest you move your ships to at least fifty Kilometers away from my ship." Warned Theoxus.

Picard turned to him, concern visible on his face. "What about your crew? We can't transport them with our shields up."

"The real loss is in the ship itself. The servitors have no value to me or the Mechanicus other than fulfilling their purpose." Answered Theoxus.

T'Mik ordered her ship clear of the unknown vessel when she received word it was going to self-destruct. They were well clear of the radius given but now they were too far from the battle to make any valuable contribution, not that they could.

"Captain, do you see that?" Asked Turner as he brought the view screen to focus on the four warbirds approaching the Gateway. Another four decloaked as they approached.

"Target torpedoes, full spread, disable their engines."

T'Mik watched as twelve torpedoes flew towards their targets, they all found their targets but the Warbirds didn't slow.

"Captain, their weapons aren't powered, it looks like they've diverted everything to their shields and engines." Reported Turner.

It was too late for them to try again though, as Turner finished his sentence the warbirds passed through the gateway in rapid succession.

Keja was distraught. _How long had the Romulans been there? Had they observed the entire test? They obvious knew of her goal. Why had they sent an obvious invasion force into the other universe?_

"What's our weapons status?" Asked Keja.

"Our two phaser banks aren't powerful enough to penetrate their shields."

"Well let's at least start to wear them down, if you get bit by enough Mosquitoes eventually you leave." Concluded Keja. "Fire until we can't!"

Theoxus watched as the Plasma generators on his ship detonated swallowing his ship in an enormous ball of blue and red fire. Theoxus felt no loss for the hundreds of Servitors onboard. However, he was pained by the loss of his ship and the technology it held.

For unaugmented beings, these federations weren't terribly inefficient. That being said they simply couldn't react fast enough. However the Zenos they called Romulans were at a similar disadvantage. The Enterprise had already disabled two of the warbirds and the combined fire of his and the other ships were rapidly wearing down the ships. This force was too easily conquered, the force of ships that went through the anomaly had doubled just before they entered.

"Captain, based on their tactics I advise you destroy the station and prepare to fall back, the Zenos will undoubtedly have more reinforcements hidden behind their cowardly cloak." Advised Theoxus.

Picard thought on this. Theoxus had an uncanny knack for discerning the Romulans tactics in a matter of minutes.

"Mr. Worf. I want those ships we can see disabled immediately."

"Captain Picard, disabling them is too inefficient. You must destroy your enemies, or they will return and try to kill you again and again." Spoke Theoxus, obvious contempt for his tactics in his mechanical voice.

Picard turned in his chair "Adept Theoxus, I will not take life when it can be avoided." He said sharply before he turned his attention back to the battle.

"Captain, only one ship remains." Reported Worf.

"Picard to all ships, Focus fire on the remaining ship and disable its weapons." Ordered Picard. But before the rest of the ships could comply the Warbird went to warp.

"Track that ship!" Ordered Picard.

Worf pressed button in a frenzy of taps and buttons voicing their pressing, then he punched his console and voiced a grunt of anger. "It's no use sir, they've cloaked."


	3. III

_**Intruders Amongst Us**_

Inquisitor Siegfried's shuttle landed on the Monolith. He inwardly confessed that this "Spartans" chapter of Space Marines Fortress Monastery was impressive to say the least. The word monolith was an understatement to say the least. The Monastery was colossal, it resembled a tiered square pyramid, married with the fortress walls of the fortress in his private piece of Ancient Terran artwork that he "confiscated" titled "Rocket's red Glare." Its base walls were twenty kilometers long and two kilometers tall. Each subsequent tier was four kilometers shorter than the one it stood on. The Monastery had Macro cannons in the upper half of every tier save the fifth and uppermost tier. The fifth tier was four kilometers by four kilometers wide and two kilometers tall, it was completely taken up by hangar bays of various sizes. Ramparts lined the tops of the walls and behind them were batteries and batteries of anti-air defenses.

His shuttle finally landed in one of the larger hangar bays. He stood from his seat, as did the four Adeptus Sororitas that accompanied him, their presence was a perk of being a high ranking Inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus. This rank had also gained him access to his powered armor. Polished steel laced with gold inlays, he placed his left hand on the book slung from his armor by chains, purity seals trailing from its pages and cover. He placed his other on his Power Saber as he approached the descending boarding ramp. As he walked out of the shuttle his brown and black robes billowed around him, stirred up by the wind. The robes of the Sororitas billowed as well, creating a dramatic look as the five of them disembarked. He was greeted by four of these "Spartans" their crimson capes billowing in a similar manner. They all wore mark seven Power Armor, their armor was painted bronze and polished to a high sheen with crimson accents. Their left arms were completely painted black with a red helmet painted on their left shoulder plate. Their power packs were painted crimson and they all carried a staff with a power blade mounted to it. Their right wrists bore wrist-mounted bolters, and they all carried Storm shields with extremely intricate engraving. One of them wore lappets that fell from his belt to between his knees. He didn't wear a helmet and had the standard Aquila tattooed on his forehead. The angular feathers of the Aquila traveled down his face forming intricate patterns along his nose, cheeks and Jaw. He stepped forward as Siegfried reached the end of the ramp.

"Greetings Inquisitor, I am Master-Sargent Gaius Durus. I lead the Second Section of the Twenty-Eighth Grand Company." He spoke, guarded welcome on his tattooed face. He was obviously guarded about Siegfried's title of Inquisitor, but he was clearly joyful about their recent reunification with the Imperium and Siegfried's presence was a reminder of that.

"I am Inquisitor Siegfried of the Ordo Hereticus."

"If you'll follow me Inquisitor, Spartan-Ultimate Valerius, Inquisitor Ardense, and Arch-Magos Nkruma are waiting for you." Durus turned and led him away from his ship, Durus' men forming a procession behind him and his Sororitas escorts.

They walked through large halls and took numerous lifts throughout the Monolith. Eventually they reached a large half circle room that was twenty meters tall. The curved wall was covered in a stained glass mosaic depicting scenes of battle, undoubtedly of the Spartans conquests. The Wall behind him bore carvings of the Emperor standing guard at the entrance. Surrounding him were carvings of stellar formations and space battles in exquisite detail. Inside the room was large stone table, the table was a semi-circle and at its head was a Spartan clad in Artificer Armor. A crimson cape draped behind him as he stood, his armor was almost exquisite, a masterpiece or artwork blended with warfare. It bore numerous scars of battle, and writing covered its plainer surfaces. His helmet sat on the table, a large flowing mane of red hair flowed from his helmet and large apparently gold leafed laurels adorned it. Purity seals littered his armor in various places of various length. He bore the same facial tattoo as did Durus, but his was far more extensive and detailed, so much of his face was covered that from a distance his skin appeared black. It was only when Siegfried got close to the Spartan that he could see traces of pale white skin between the patterns.

The Chapter Master stood and held his arms before crossing them over his chest plate, thumbs interlocked and fingers outstretched, in greeting. "Welcome to the Monolith Inquisitor Siegfried, I am Spartan-Ultimate Quintus Spartacus Valerius."

The figure to his right stood, a female inquisitor in black powered armor and a large flowing black cloak stood "I am Inquisitor Ardense of the Ordo Malleus."

The figure to Valerius' left stood, he was obviously Mechanicus based on his crimson robe and his augments "I am Arch-Magos Nkruma of the Spartan Sector." She spoke in the robotic voice characteristic of the Mechanicus.

"Good day to you all, Shall we begin our discussions?" asked Siegfried, wary of this uncharacteristically warm welcome of an inquisitor.

"Captain Picard, you will remain on station with the O'Malley and Homer, we are dispatching another twenty ships to join you. Captain T'Mik will take the Gozen and the visitor from the other universe to Earth and meet with Starfleet Command. T'Mik, your ship has warp drive correct?" Asked Janeway from the monitor.

"Yes, ma'am. Though we are limited to warp six." Advised T'Mik.

"Understood. Commander Keja." Addressed Janeway.

"Yes, Ma'am?" Answered Keja.

"You will wipe your databases of all information. Transfer your staff to the Gozen and return to Earth. Set the station to self-destruct." Ordered Janeway.

"But Admiral we ca-" Objected Keja.

Janeway held up her hand "Commander, we cannot, under any circumstances, allow the Romulans to obtain our data on the Iconians. You will transfer the data to the Gozen's computers and bring it to Earth."

"Understood, Ma'am." Replied Keja.

Theoxus was standing in the area of the Gozen he understood they called Main Engineering. He was almost impressed by what he saw. The crew had replaced the warp-core with one brought to them by a transport ship in a matter of hours. For unaugmented beings, they coordinated well.

"Excuse me"

Theoxus turned to see a human female with a timid look on her face. Theoxus was tired of this, with his ship destroyed he had to continue to play the peace-loving coward. All he wanted was to return to the Mechanicus and report the potential boon that this "Federation" represented.

"Yes?" He asked in as polite a way as he could fake.

"Is it true you're from the future?" She asked.

"No, I am from the Forty-first Millennium. You are from the past." He began, but then remembered to add the diplomatic flare. "But that is from my perspective."

"Oh, what's it like?" she asked.

"You would not like it" He answered as Picard entered the room with a woman and man behind him.

"Adept Theoxus," he greeted "Unfortunately I must bid you farewell. Our superiors on Earth would like to speak with you. Should you agree, Captain T'Mik will take you there."

Theoxus was loath to be in the presence of this Xenos, but he needed to continue this façade.

"That will be acceptable Captain Picard of the United Federation of Planets."

"Adept Theoxus, I am Captain T'Mik. If you'll follow Commander Turner, my First Officer, he'll show you to your room." T'Mik recommended.

"Very well." Theoxus agreed, curious to see more of the technology these people possessed as well as leave the presence of this Xenos.

Theoxus followed Turner through a number of corridors so simple he didn't even need to consciously learn them. They stopped at a door that Turner opened and then gestured for him to enter first.

What greeted him was waste, waste, opulence and waste. The quarters were large, decorative furniture was placed throughout the room, and it was stylishly lit. Not a single work bench was present in the room, a blasphemy against productivity, and by extension the Omnissiah.

"These will be your quarters for your stay. Do they meet your satisfaction?" asked Turner.

Theoxus longed to explain how horrendous they were but he metaphorically bit his tongue. "They are acceptable, but I will need to modify them."

"I'm sure the Captain won't object to that." Spoke Turner as he walked towards a panel. "This is the Replicator, it can replicate any form of sustenance you desire that is programmed into our database."

Theoxus was astounded. "How does it work? May I see the schematics?"

"The replicator functions like our transporters. It stores the molecular patterns of food and objects in the database and when you desire one, say a glass of water, you activate the replicator" Turner demonstrated. "Water, sixty milliliters at fifteen degrees Celsius."

After he spoke the replicator beeped and a glass of sixty milliliters appeared. Turner reached and took it, he then took a sip of it and replaced it on the pad.

"Once you're finished with your food, you can dispose of the dishes like so." He turned his attention to the replicator. "Recycle." The replicator beeped again and the glass of water vanished.

"As for a schematic I'd have to ask the Captain first. But you'll have unrestricted access to the unrestricted library." Turner explained.

"Very well. Would you please leave me? I wish to rest." Asked Theoxus.

"If you need anything you can contact the captain or me through the com-panel above the replicator." Explained Turner before he left the room.

When the door closed Theoxus looked around his room. _This place is hedonistic, but I can turn it into workplace worthy of a Tech-Priest._ He reached under his robes and took out his bolt pistol. These federations hadn't asked him if he was armed, and he wouldn't mention it until they gained the wits to ask. His first priority was to make the supplies he would need for an extended stay among these cowards.

T'Mik walked into Sick Bay. "Doctor, have you performed the discrete scans I asked you too?"

"Yes, and I've got bad news."

"What is it?"

"I can't tell you a thing about this Theoxus other than he's a he, and he's about forty-five percent human, the rest is machinery. As to how the machinery works, I can't tell anything about it. I sent the scans to Mr. Flyn and even he is completely baffled." Explained Doctor Cho.

"Thank you Doctor Cho, we're six days from Earth, I'd like you to monitor the Adept during that time and when we reach earth I want you to transmit them a copy of all of your data." Explained T'Mik.

"Yes, Captain." Agreed Cho as T'Mik left sickbay.

Centurion Nurek entered the briefing room, it was full of the representatives of the troops from the other eight ships in the fleet. All stood as he entered and he waved them to be at ease, the Tal-shiar might thrive on fear, but Nurek preferred a relaxed atmosphere during the briefings he conducted.

"Gentlemen, in three hours we will conduct our raid. Your assignments have been given too you and you should already know the plan. The fleet will maneuver alongside the station and warship and beam our forces over. The first wave will place and activate the shield barriers and wait for the rest of the force before they pursue their respective objectives. We are to secure any information we can find, destroy the objectives from within, and then return to Romulus with what we've discovered. Questions?" briefed Nurek. Not one of the officers spoke up.

"Dismissed, we'll launch in three hours." Dismissed Nurek as he left to don his armor and inspect his equipment and weapon.

Captain Ovidious reentered Bothanus' command center for the third time. He was starting to get tired of this, she acted like she could summon him like a lap dog, he would respond this one last time but after that he would immediately set course for the Spartan Sector with the data.

"You asked to see me Lector." He spoke flatly, traces of annoyance evident in his voice and on his face once he removed his helmet.

"I appreciate your returning Captain Ovidious of the twenty-eighth Grand Company. I believe were are going to be attacked." Spoke Bothanus as if she was talking about a malfunctioning servitor.

Ovidious tensed. _Attacked? By who? Our sensoriums haven't detected anything. How can she be so sure of this? Enough! Let them attack, I will purge them from this part of space in holy fire if they show themselves._

"If I am correct in my assumption, I recommend you try to capture several of them." Further spoke Bothanus.

"I will capture a specimen if they are a new xenos race. Otherwise I will lead my Spartans to purge them. What is the strength of your Combat-Servitor force?" Ovidious asked.

"I have two-thousand one-hundred and twelve combat-servitors on station, they can be activated at a moment's notice." Bothanus informed him.

"I recommend we deploy a minimum force of servitors in the hangar bays, then, provided these xenos show themselves and try to board the Station, we'll release our full fury against them." Suggested Ovidious.

"Agreed, if you desire, you may take command of my station personnel for the battle while I command station defenses." Offered Bothanus.

"That would be acceptable, provided there is a battle. If there is I recommend we keep the Void shields disabled until they strike. When they do, again provided they do, attack, we let the majority of their boarding forces come onto the station and possibly my ship. Then when they do we raise the shields and trap their boarding parties on board." Cautioned Ovidious. He doubted the Lector would agree to his plan. Running without void-shields was against the most basic Imperial tactical doctrine, but it would serve as an irresistible bait for any attackers. He didn't expect her to agree in the slightest when suddenly she spoke.

"Agreed."

Space hulk Ball-O-Gutz lurched, then shook violently. A nameless nob stopped tearing apart an unlucky squig with his teeth and looked at his looky-bits. Then he immediately broke into a sprint for the boss. After running for far too long to go without bashing somethings head in, the nob finally reached Warboss Skull-Basha in his boss-bridge. Skull-Basha was huge, as is every warboss. Fed by years of fighting and bashing heads in. He was known for executing his foes by stomping on, or caving in their heads and turning them into a thick squishy paste.

"Boss! Boss! Da Ball-O-Gutz is outa da warp!" He shouted as he eagerly ran up to the boss.

Ball-O-Gutz wasn't impressively large by space-hulk standards. Despite its relative small size, it was still much larger than any ship the orks on board could think of. Allowing Ball-O-Gutz to occupy a unique niche of space-hulk where it could be piloted to some degree by its occupants. During it's time in the Warp, Skull-Basha had his boys build up massive amounts of deployment-ships, busta-bombers, killa-kans, stompas and whatever his mech-boys could cobble together out of the techie-bits.

Skull-Basha sat up. "Is der any worlds near us?"

The Nob paused. "No, der ain't no worlds out der."

Skull-Basha grabbed the nob by the throat. "Den why ya tellin me ya puny git?" He shouted in anger.

"Boss, ders a 'umie space-block near us! Ders gotta be a fightz der! And bitz ta loot!" he tried to satiate Skull-Basha.

Skull-Basha threw the nob across the room and watched with satisfaction when he hit the wall with a loud crunch and was knocked unconscious as his limp form fell to the ground. Before the other orks in the room could pull out his teeth five pain-boyz scooped him up on a board and ran him out of sight, undoubtedly to Mad-Dock Gutz-Readah. Warboss Skull-Basha got up and pounded his steel chest with his claw arm.

"We'z got a 'umie place to loot! Get yer Gitz ready! Change course before Ball-O-Gutz goes back into da warp! FULL SPEED! WAAAAAAAAAHG!" He shouted to his boys who joined him in shouting WAAAAAAHG! Until the space hulk reverberated with the echoes of thousands of orks shouting at the top of their lungs. The enormous engines coughed to life, spewing jets of orange and red fire dozens of meters long as they rocketed towards their target. One of his boys began to sing, loudly and terribly. He was rapidly joined by the rest of the boys on the bridge, and then by orks throughout Ball-O-Gutz.

"Fourteen Orks on a 'umies ship,

Killin' anyting dat isn't green,

Gruntin' to each othah through big, sharp teeth,

Sayin' "times be gettin' lean."

Thirteen Orks with da kaptain's chest,

Hopin' to quench der greedy thirst,

Gruntin' to each othah through big, sharp, teeth,

Sayin' "I waz da wun dat saw it first!"

Wun lone ork lef to steal da loot,

Wishin' it hadn't turned out so,

Gruntin to isself through big, sharp, teeth,

Sayin' "I shoulda let da pilot go."

The innumerous and enormous thrusters that generations of Mech-boys had spent their lives building and fitting to the space hulk roared. Up on the command bridge Skull-Basha stood up and brought both of his arms down in a single, mighty smash on top of a glowing red button. A deafening horn bellowed, causing Ball-O-Gutz to reverberate with each blast. The engines spewed tails of red and orange fire and smoke over a hundred meters long as Ball-O-Gutz accelerated faster and faster towards the loot and violence every ork onboard craved like a drowning man craved air.

Skull-Basha released another deafening roar into the air as the acceleration caused all his boys to stagger and catch themselves. "WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHG!"

T'Mik had finished reading the report Picard had sent her and was now walking through the corridors to Theoxus' room to pay him a visit and extend him some courtesies. When she arrived at the guarded door she pressed the door chime. The door opened and smoke poured from the room, it wasn't normal smoke though, she could tell it was some sort of incense. As she entered the room she had to fight back several fits of coughing. The room had been completely redone. The standard furniture was gone, there were now work benches surrounding the entire periphery. In the center of the room stood a forge, though no flames were visible. T'Mik guessed he had accessed the power grid and connected his forge directly to it. There was a constant clatter of machinery as mechanisms covering the workbenches beyond her understanding clattered away. Theoxus hurried from one work bench to another, requesting materials from the replicator, inserting billets of metals into the forge, mixing fluids in shakers, and then taking the white hot billets of metals to pieces of machinery that turned them into complex shapes.

"Hello Adept Theoxus, I am Captain T'Mik, I command this vessel."

The adept didn't acknowledge her for a full two minutes and T'Mik waited patiently. Then, his flurry of motion eased as he fed a large billet of glowing metal into a machine and then he turned to her.

"Greetings Captain T'Mik" He spoke as he placed his hands on his chest, thumbs interlocked with his fingers extended towards his shoulders.

"I see you have modified your quarters, do they meet your standards now?" T'Mik asked observing the machines work.

"I apologize for not consulting you before I made the changes, but I must establish the facilities to support myself in a hostile environment." He spoke, his mechanical voice completely unapologetic.

T'Mik was curious, had the Federation been hostile towards him to such a degree that he felt the need to construct all of this?

"Have we offended you Adept?" She asked.

"No, however the attack of that Xenos race, I believe you call them Romulans, means that this is a hostile environment." He explained to her.

"May I have a look around?" She asked him, still only just inside the doorway.

There was a noticeable pause, his machine-tentacles twitching.

"Very, well. But do not touch anything." He warned as he stepped aside to allow her to enter.

As T'Mik entered the room she could see he had removed the bed. _Apparently you don't need sleep._ She continued walking around the room until the bathroom came into view. Or rather where the bathroom should have been. Instead of the bathroom there was a single large shrine. Depicting the half-human half-machine skull surrounded by a gear. This gear and the skull inside was held in the clutches of a two headed eagle, the left head with an eye and the other without. On either side of this image were matching stone carvings of the same figure. A large man in disproportionate, ornate armor wielding a flaming sword in one hand, and on his other had was a massive gauntlet with large talons. She approached it and she could feel the adepts gaze pierce her with intensity as she approached it. Wishing to ease his tension, and not provoke him by possibly upsetting the customs of worship, she turned to him.

"Adept, I'm curious, what is the significance behind the half skull and gear, the two headed Eagle, and the man depicted on either side?"

Theoxus shifted, his tentacles tensing. "The skull and gear represents the Adeptus Mechanicus and Cult Mechanicus, of which I am a Tech-Priest. It is also representative of the Omnissiah, the god of all machines and machine spirits. The Omnissiah comprehends all and allows us to replace our weak flesh with holy mechanisms. The higher an individual stands in the Mechanicus, the more extensive their Augments are. Some of the highest echelons of the Mechanicus have the entire emotional side of their brains removed and replaced with cogitators to allow them to pursue absolute logic. The two headed eagle is representative of the Holy Imperium of Man as a whole. The figure you see is the God-Emperor of Mankind, our undying Lord and Avatar of the Machine-God. He forged the Imperium from the ashes of the Age of Strife, he brought the Mechanicus into the fold and he conquered the galaxy in the name of man. Under his rule from Holy Terra upon the Golden Throne the Imperium has stood triumphant against constant wars of aggression against us by aliens, heretics, and daemons for over ten-thousand years. It is by his will that Humanity survives."

T'Mik refused to believe this. _The Imperium is ten-thousand years old? How can a government stand for so long, older than all of the civilizations in the Federation? How can a single man build an empire than rule it for ten millennia?_

"You mentioned he conquered the Galaxy, how many worlds does the Imperium control?" She asked, nervous as to the answer.

"The Imperium of Man has dominion of over a million worlds and hundreds of thousands of moons. Though this is by the imperium as a whole, the mechanicus maintains sovereign control over the Forge-Worlds scattered across the five Segmentums." He answered.

"And what is a Forge-World?" T'Mik asked, already guessing.

"A Forge-World is a world ruled by the Mechanicus. Its entire surface is completely covered by Manufactorums that often extend kilometers into the planet's surface as well as hundreds, if not thousands of kilometers above in the form of massive orbital ship-yards. Mars, the home world of the Mechanicus, is famous for its Ring-of-Iron. The Emperor raised his ships for the Great Crusade there. Some of those ships are rumored to still be in service. The Forge-Worlds are also home to the countless armies of the Skitarii as well as the God-Machines of the Legio-Titanicus. These Sacred Titans stand over a hundred meters tall and have no equal on the battle field save another Titan." He continued.

T'Mik desperately hoped her combadge was still recording. "God-Machines" that stood over a hundred meters tall, ships thousands of years old. The Romulan empire was doomed if they tried to attack this Imperium. She turned as she thought and noticed a weapon on the bench. She approached it and thought about picking it up, but decided better of it as she heard his tentacles whirling as he followed. There was one other reason, though she dismissed it as suspicion. She thought she could see an aura, a faint glow of hunger and violence surround the weapon.

"Did you build this weapon just now? What kind of weapon is it?" she asked pointing to it.

"No, that Bolt-Pistol is two-hundred and six years old. It fires these" He handed her a large cartridge, it was approximately half an inch in diameter and at least four inches long. "That is a bolt. It propels itself from the Bolt-gun by way of a solid rocket fuel propellant. When it strikes its foe it is designed to penetrate armor and flesh before it detonates, bringing the Emperors wrath to his foes."

T'Mik winced slightly at the thought of this exploding inside someone while they were still alive. She still couldn't believe the age of the weapon, two-hundred and six years old and still in service.

"This weapon is two hundred and six years old. If you don't mind my asking, how old are you?" she asked.

"I have been blessed to follow the Omnissiah's path for one-hundred and seventy-eight standard years." He answered.

T'Mik couldn't believe it. All logic defied that answer. But before she could ask another question the clatter of Theoxus' machinery was drown out by an alarm.

"Intruder Alert: Security teams to decks two, three, ten, twenty-one, Main Engineering, and Shuttle-bays."

"Captain T'Mik, we are under attack." Theoxus told the Xenos female in an unbroken and uninterested tone.

T'Mik tapped her combadge. "Bridge this is T'Mik, report." The Human named Turner answered.

"A Romulan boarding party has entered the ship. A group of them appears to be moving on your position."

Theoxus reveled in the thought of finally being able to cleanse this universe of these Romulans. He activated his Combat subroutines, walking towards his Bolt-Pistol he took it in his augmented arm and stored the magazines he had built and filled with ammunition during his stay. He wished he could bring the Servo-drone he was building, but he lacked a skull housing. Perhaps he could utilize the skull of one of these Romulans. Force them to serve the Emperor and help him cleanse their kind from the galaxy. That fate was worthy of the poetry of Nobel houses.

Suddenly the Door to his room was thrown inward by an explosion. T'Mik was thrown onto his forge where she screamed as she received extensive burns along her left arm. Theoxus drew a certain degree of satisfaction at the xenos being punished for her sin of existence. This was cut short as twelve new xenos stormed into his room with weapons aimed at him.

"Put your hands on your head!" They shouted as they branched around him.

"You will not defile this place with your presence xenos filth! I shall purge you of your sin of existence!" Shouted Theoxus with his verbal vox turned to the maximum volume, causing the vials and loose items scattered throughout his room to shake with the force of his voice. Chems coursed throughout his body as he began to move. He reached out with his mechandendrites and sent them plunging into the chests of the xenos. He then tore their spines out through their chests as he ripped his mechandendrites out of them. Green gore splattering across the room and on their still living compatriots. As he did this he ran forward and drew his bolter.

"Fire!" Shouted the leader.

Before he could raise his own weapon Theoxus aimed at the xenos and pulled the trigger of his Bolt-Pistol. A single bolt raced from the barrel and dove into the abdomen of the leader where it exploded, creating a massive hole in the male xenos so wide the only thing that kept him connected to his waist was traces of skin and musculature on either side of his waist. He looked at Theoxus with shock and horror on his face as he collapsed. He died looking at Theoxus' righteous form over a pile of his own innards. Theoxus spun as his mechandendrites formed a righteous storm of fury. He grabbed a xenos with his mech-arm and broke the man's body in a single crunch as his servos brought the vice closed. The remaining four men stepped back in out of the room but they could not escape him.

"You cannot escape the wrath of the God-Emperor! I shall cleanse you of sin in the name of the Omnissiah!" Theoxus shouted again as he pursued the falling back Xenos.

His augment legs produced a chilling thunder as he ran across the deck plates in pursuit. Suddenly his body tingled. Every extension of his body tingled as energy coursed through him. He felt a sudden influx of energy as the xenos energy weapon struck him in the chest. Another three beams struck him in other locations of his chest, the sudden and large amount of energy threatened to overwhelm some of his less durable circuitry. He had to rid himself of the excess energy. So he launched himself out of the room into the corridor, tearing the two doors off of their framework as he did so. He held the two door halves each in two mechandendrites and positioned them as one would a shield. As he did this he reached out again with his mechandendrites and plunged them into the skulls of the remaining xenos where he routed the excess energy and vaporized their brains causing their heads to explode. Painting that section of corridor in green, slippery and clumpy ichor.

Satisfied that the immediate area was secured, Theoxus turned to his room. He saw T'Mik attempting to get for her feet. Tears of pain streaming from her eyes as she cradled her left arm. Theoxus debated treating her now or letting her suffer, but in the interest of acquiring their technology he decided to treat her. He walked over to her, crushing a stray hand under his foot with a loud crunch. He kneeled beside her and took her arm in six of his mechandendrites and she winced in pain as he extended the arm and removed the scraps of her uniform seared to her flesh. He temporarily deactivated his combat protocols and activated his medical subroutines. He gazed through her flesh with his optical augments. For a xenos, her anatomy was remarkably similar to a humans. With the obvious exceptions of course. She had extensive third degree burns to her left arm accounting for thirty-six percent of her bodily surface area, the nerve endings were destroyed and the bones involved were severely charred.

"I can heal you, but it will be painful." He stated in his flat mechanical voice while he reached with another mechandendrite to grab a syringe of a glowing blue fluid.

Before T'Mik could object he used his augment arms to turn her head and expose her jugular vein. He swiftly inserted the syringe and injected the serum. T'Mik shrieked in agony as the serum coursed through her veins, she tried to pull away but Theoxus' grip was firm and unyielding. As the serum reached her arm it began to seep through the damaged vasculature and generate new cells. This began to increase exponentially all while Theoxus used the various options of optical abilities he had to observe for adverse effects. T'Mik tried to tear off the serum and its newly generated cells but Theoxus was too quick for her. He caught her right arm with his left augment-arm and held it in a vicelike grip. After seventy seconds of the serum bubbling and the T'Mik's shrieks the serum had restored her flesh and its inner workings. When the last cell was generated Theoxus injected a deactivating serum into her jugular and the process was halted. He examined his work as the Xenos woman's screams ended and she struggled to catch her breath through ragged gasps. Satisfied that the arm was repaired, and slightly impressed that her system had endured the serum well enough for it to not leave any sign of mutation, he released her arms and she quickly took it and stood, retreating from him.

"Why did you do that?" she asked obviously confused about her feelings towards him, her breath still ragged.

"You were damaged, combat ineffective. I needed to repair your bio-systems before we could proceed any further. It would take too long to bring you to your own medical personnel." He explained as he walked to his chem bench and placed the syringes into the sterilizer where they would be cleaned and then refilled with their designated serums.

"Captain T'Mik, it is obvious that these Romulans are attempting to capture me. I recommend I escort you to the bridge and then I will lead what Armsmen you have and cleanse your ship." Theoxus recommended.

She still clung to her arm as if fearful the pain would return, but she spoke "I agree, we should get moving." She tapped her combadge. "T'Mik to the bridge."

She was met with silence. "T'Mik to the main bridge." Silence. "T'Mik to any Starfleet personnel." No response. "The com system must be down. I need to get to the bridge."

He picked up one of the foul xenos weapons and handed it to her, "Here, until you can find a more suitable weapon."

T'Mik took the weapon and Theoxus lead the way to the bridge. He had memorized the ships schematics in a matter of minutes and his frame was more durable so he would lead her to the bridge.

As they moved he reactivated his combat protocols and subroutines and took the two door halves and held them together lengthwise at a one-hundred and sixty degree angle. He used one of his mechandendrites equipped with a welder to weld a seam down their joining sides. He tore off scraps of metal from the bulkheads as they moved and bent them into cross braces and points for him to hold the improvised shield.

Commander Turner was trying to coordinate all of the personnel onboard to fight off the Romulan boarding parties. He had lost contact with T'Mik and the rest of the ship. They had managed to jury rig the com system so that they had the ability to contact Engineering and the shuttle bay, but they were still working to restore universal comms.

"Commander!" Called a security officer as he entered the bridge sweaty and scrapped.

"Report?" Turner asked.

"The Captain and the Tech-Priest are gone, the security officer was dead when I got there. But I don't think they were captured." He spoke between breaths.

"What do you mean?" asked Turner.

"The Romulans were torn apart sir." He answered.

"Wait, what?" Turner asked.

"They were literally torn apart. The entire corridor and room is covered in blood." He confirmed.

Turner was shocked. Of all things he'd heard of, people being torn apart without explosions in combat was not one of them.

"Find them. Now!" Ordered Turner and the security officer left immediately.

"Sir! Security teams have secured Main Engineering. They report special charges were set but have been taken care of. The Main shuttle bay is still under heavy assault but are holding." Reported Halloran from the engineering station.

"Well done people. Let's get those coms up and secure the ship!" Turner ordered. The ship was still at warp, but there was obviously a Romulan ship nearby. They hadn't been able to detect it yet with their systems still being repaired from the failed gateway test. _However, if the Torn apart Romulans were the Tech-Priest's work, I don't think the Romulans have a chance._ Before he could further direct the efforts Turner's attention was drawn by a loud crash. As he turned he watched Theoxus come crashing through the door. He rolled and stood, a shield made of doors in front of him as he swept the bridge with an oversized pistol. Once the Tech-Priest was satisfied that the bridge was secured he called out behind him. "Clear."

Turner was relieved to see T'Mik though dismayed her uniform was scorched and covered in soot. Where her left sleeve should have been was nothing but burned scraps of cloths that only covered a few inches down from her elbow, yet her left arm was fine.

"Captain T'Mik, I am going to secure Engineering." The Tech-Priest spoke in that chilling voice Turner just couldn't get used to.

"Actually." Interjected Turner "We've already secured Main Engineering, but the Main Shuttle Bay is still under attack."

The Tech-Priest turned and left in a sprint that was inhuman without saying a word.

"Captain, what happened?" Turner asked.

"Not now, what's the situation?" T'Mik asked.

Theoxus reveled in the combat. He raced down the corridors and access hatches, knocking crewmembers aside as he ran for the combat. Finally he reached his goal. Scorch marks of energy weapons and shouts of men and xenos filled his senses. He rounded a corner and spotted well over two dozen armed xenos in a hanger bay. Theoxus leveled his bolt pistol and released a horde of Bolt rounds at the filthy xenos. The holy justice exploded from within the xenos' bodies in clouds of green ichor. Theoxus charged at the xenos, his improvised shield between him and the xenos while he reloaded. He closed the distance with the Romulans as he finished reloading. He used his mechandendrites to grab the legs of the Romulan closet to him, picked him up and slammed him into the wall behind him. The Romulans body crunched as he struck the wall, only for Theoxus to turn and use his momentum to hurl the Romulan into a group of six xenos knocking them all down.

Theoxus felt the impacts of energy weapons on his makeshift shield as the Romulans now turned to face their obviously more dangerous enemy. The Federations in cover used this distraction to strike them with their energy weapons. The room became a chaotic grid of orange and green beams of light, almost like an Imperial Guard firing line, only without a shred of the discipline.

A Romulan screamed as Theoxus tore off his leg and then his head with his mechandendrites while simultaneously crushing another xenos in his Mech-arm, all while delivering the cleansing might of the Imperium to the xenos not within his reach. The deck plating became slippery with gore, yet Theoxus had little difficulty maneuvering due to his augmented legs. Theoxus surveyed the carnage as bodies and parts of xenos fell to the ground. He noticed the last group of surviving xenos five meters to his front.

"Lay down your arms!" Shouted one of the Federations from behind their barricade. _Coward. Demanding the surrender of your foe from your hiding spot. I'll show you how to properly dispose of a xenos._ Theoxus leaped into the air, his crimson robe swirling and brushing against the ceiling. As he came to the arch of his travel he positioned his mechandendrites in just the right way and then gravity did the rest of the work for him.

"FOR THE EMPEROR!" Theoxus bellowed as he fell amongst the Romulans. A massive crash resonated through the hangar bay as Theoxus landed on one of the Romulans, crushing the xenos' skull with his boot as he did. His fall dented the deck plating and his mechandendrites all pierced the remaining Romulans bodies before he lifted them all up above his head and tore their bodies apart simultaneously in one swift motion of righteous fury while he thundered,

"THE FLESH IS WEAK!"

Theoxus surveyed the Hangar bay, regrettably there wasn't any xenos left on within his site.

"Bridge to Main Shuttle Bay, the remaining Romulans just transported to their ship. What happened? Is the Tech-Priest with you?" T'Mik's voice pierced the deafening silence that always marked the end of a battle. The Federations were still stunned.

"I am here Captain T'Mik. I recommend you submit these Armsmen to Hypnotherapy. The battle seems to have disturbed their fragile minds."


	4. IV

_**WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHG!**_

"Transport." Ordered Centurion Nurek from one of the transporter pads onboard his D'deridex-class warbird. The order was relayed via secured com channels to the other seven warbirds whose transporter pads were slaved to the one in Nurek's transporter room to perfectly coordinate the boarding action. After he issued this order he watched as the transport officer and dozens of Romulan soldiers standing by to transport disappeared and faded into a massive hangar bay. It was enormous, large enough for shuttles to be stacked on top of each other several times over and side by side many times. It was so large it dwarfed the first wave of his assault.

The bay was not empty, however. There were easily close to one hundred beings, though they weren't normal beings and they moved too robotically to be purely organic. As Nurek squinted to see, his suspicions were proven correct. The figures had a myriad of mechanical implants and mechanical arms. Very few beings had normal hands, most had them replaced with oversized drills, various other mechanical tools and some were even armed with oversized weapons. Amongst all of the figures darted flying objects he couldn't make out, though he could tell they were some kind of flying drone.

"Deploy!" He commanded his men. At his order dozens of soldiers ran forward twenty steps and removed backpacks they had slung on their backs. In well-rehearsed unison they all took a knee in line with each other, placed their packs on the ground, and tapped a series of commands into the displays facing each Romulan. As they stepped back and drew their weapons, chest high shield barriers sprung from each pack and merged together forming a single continuous barrier between the growing force of Romulans and these, beings.

Nurek was pleased, the fourth wave of his force had transported on board, based on the lack of communications from the force beaming onto the ship it seemed this was going to go off without a hitch. Suddenly a flying skull flew towards his force, it flew amongst his men and towards him. Nurek was somewhat disturbed by a flying skull, but being a veteran of the Dominion War, he wasn't particularly troubled by it.

"Weapons free!" Nurek shouted.

Dozens of disrupter beams erupted, racing for the walking figures and the approaching skull. Deafening alarm claxons blared and the hangar bay lighting switched from a yellow-orange to a rich and bloody red. Every figure they could see immediately and simultaneously turned towards his force and sprinted for them at an unnatural speed. Crimson beams of light flew from amongst the small swarm and rippled the shield barrier. Those soldiers who broke cover at the wrong moment were rewarded by their heads exploding as the laser beams stuck them, showering their neighbors in ichor. Some were struck in the shoulders and their arms burned away.

Nurek's force was still growing and now outnumbered the defenders. He shouted a battle cry that was joined by his men as he leveled his weapon and fired at the charging attackers now only one hundred meters from them. His disrupter struck a figure in the chest and seared away what little flesh was there, scorching metal and causing the figure to stumble. The figure didn't cry out in pain or break speed, the only sound it made was the whirling of the large drills where its hands should have been. Nurek fired again aiming at the figure's face. Nurek watched his disruptor beam vaporize the flesh revealing a steel skull and cables instead of normal bones and tendons, before he could observe more the remaining electronics exploded and the figure collapsed.

"Focus fire on their heads!" He shouted to his men, now numbering over six hundred. They shifted their fire and cut down most of the charging defenders.

"Shield bearers, stand by to advance!" Nurek shouted as more defenders began to trickle into the hangar bay. The advancing defenders now only numbered a few dozen and had closed to less than fifty meters. Nurek could now make out their details clearly. They were cybernetic hybrids, half cybernetic, and half human. _Borg? No, Borg don't fight like this. The federation never utilizes that kind of technology, they also don't send their troops into a suicidal frontal charge against an entrenched enemy. Who are these people?_

The last of the original defenders were dispatched and his shield bearers were in place.

"Strike Force, advance!" Nurek shouted. His orders echoed by the com circuit and by junior officers throughout the force. The shield bearers began moving the barrier forward and the force advanced as more Romulans continued to beam in. _The last of the force must be about to beam in by now, provided the transports are successful._

He was right, after two more groups of Romulans beamed in he received a transmission "Transport complete."

The station stirred, like a distant geological tremor. The ships had begun their assault on the station, working to eliminate their communications arrays. The tremors grew in frequency when suddenly they stopped. _Something's wrong._

"Secure the area!" He shouted to his men who broke formation and sprinted towards the exits with additional shield packs, leaving their original packs in place as a secure beam out point. Suddenly, hundreds of beings poured from the access points.

"Belay that! Establish a perimeter and overlapping fields of fire! Set up the heavy weapons!" Nurek shouted as further hundreds of figures emerged.

"Centurion Nurek, this is Warbird Remus. We have lost transporter lock on the strike force. Communications with the Ship boarding force have ended and the ship is moving to attack us. We will destroy them but the station has erected a shield. Our weapons and transporters can't penetrate it, you must disable it from within." Spoke Commander S'Val.

"Understood." Answered Nurek before he turned his attention back to the battle. The heavy disrupters were cutting down the attacking cyber-humans quickly, but hundreds more continued to emerge like a large robotic flood. Some of them breaking through the forward teams like the sea did his son's sand castles back home. _If this continues we will be overrun._

"My team rally on me!" He shouted and thirty Romulans broke off the line and ran towards him. They formed orderly ranks in front of him even as Romulans screamed as they were cut down by the attackers, before the attackers themselves were destroyed by the heavy disruptors.

"The station has put up a shield the ships can't penetrate or transport through. We are going to find and eliminate the shield generator, retrieve any data we can and then return to Romulus." Nurek briefed his men as he surveyed them. As he did this, his eye was caught when one of the defending cyber-hybrids had leapt over the barriers and had impaled a Romulan through the abdomen and upper right chest with the drills it had instead of hands. Without speaking the hybrid activated its drills and the high pitched whine was almost immediately drown out by the Romulan's screams and wet gasps before he finally died. _Even the Jem'Hadar didn't fight this brutally._

"On me! Move out!" He shouted as they made for the only exit that only had a dozen defenders coming through.

"Grenades!" He shouted as he pulled one from his belt and primed it. In one movement he and his men hurled their explosives at the defenders and destroyed all of them in one fell swoop. Flesh and metal components rained down on them showering them in blood and oil.

"Move! P'Mav, you have command of the force while I'm away!" He shouted as he led his men through a briefly deactivated section of shield barriers.

"Understoo-" A series of massive bolts of lightning struck the floor in front of Nurek and he ran into something solid and immovable. He struck it so hard he was knocked backwards.

The figure in front of him was at least two, possibly three meters tall, clad in some sort of monstrous bronze armor, it wore a long billowing red cape and held a single truly unimaginable sword that sparked with lightning like energy and almost glowed. A large mane of red hair stood from the steel hood above the thing's leafed helmet. The figure lifted its boot and brought it down in a single stomp that crushed Nurek's leg below his knee. He cried out in pain as he watched disruptor bolts strike the figure in the chest and do no damage. The figure lifted its boot and swung its sword, cleaving four of his men in half as lighting raced along their bodies. Nurek tried to stand but couldn't, instead he lifted his weapon and aimed right at the helmet of the figure and fired. Utter dismay filled Nurek as he saw his disruptor sear the paint of the armor but do no other damage.

"GO!" Disable the shield generator before we're destroyed!" He shouted into the communications circuit. _This is no longer a tactical strike. This is a fight for survival against inevitability._

Nurek was met with no words, but rather the screams of his men. More lightning strikes occurred behind the shield barricades. _Nine lightning strikes, nine more invincible beings._ Suddenly, he felt himself picked up by the figure. It grabbed him by the upper arm and hoisted him to eye level with the figure. Nurek gazed into the eyes of the helmet, they glowed green with pure unemotional light. He knew better though, he could tell the figure inside felt no pity about the carnage he intended to unleash. Nurek spit on the figures helmet in defiance.

"Xenos Scum." Spoke the figure in a voice that truly terrified Nurek, it was robotic, no trace of organic life with one exception. Nurek could taste the pure and unrestrained rage and hatred emanating from the figure. Nurek screamed as the figures armored hand clamped shut and completely pulverized the bones in Nurek's arm. He grunted again as he was dropped to the floor and his head struck the deck plating. He felt dizzy, faint, he desperately tried to turn his head and lead his men, but all he saw was carnage and slaughter. The figures were immense, but moved with deliberate and impossible efficiency, almost every movement resulted in the death of at least one Romulan. His vision pulsed. _I must have gotten a concussion from the fall._ Nurek desperately tried to issue orders to his men, but all he could do was softly grunt and utter incomprehensible words.

"WITNESS US!" bellowed one of the figures as he held the severed head and spinal column of Nurek's Sargent above his head for all to see. Green blood streamed down from P'Mav's head down the black gauntlet of the immense figure.

"WITNESS OUR GLORY!" the rest bellowed as they paused their slaughter and raised their weapons above their heads.

Nurek's vision faded in and out as he lost blood. He watched his men abandon their defenses. He watched as the armored figures used spears that sparked lighting as they cleaved Romulans into a myriad of pieces. He watched one of his newest soldiers, now desperate, try to charge and strike one of the figures with his weapon. The figure blocked his strike with his shield, and shield erupted into a massive lightning storm that threw the young soldier into his comrades, his charred and lifeless body smoking in the arms of his friends. His friends looked down in horror as their fallen friends burned flesh came off of him in their hands, only for them to be killed by projectiles that pierced their bodies and then exploded within them.

 _We are doomed, Romulus will fall._

The cyber-humans swarmed over the rest of the Romulans, utterly destroying every single one of them with Drills, weapons with chains instead of blades, and burning flames cast from weapons instead of arms.

Nurek awoke to being picked up again. The screaming had stopped, what little of the Hangar bay he could see was covered in the green blood and the bodies of his men. He was being lifted from behind by a set of armored gloves, his feet left the floor, and in front of him was the thing that had crushed his leg and destroyed his arm. The figure was speckled with green blood and Nurek could smell burning flesh.

"What Xenos race are you?" it asked in its robotic voice.

"Show me your face and kill me you coward!" Shouted Nurek.

The figure raised his armored hands to his helmet and twisted it to the side a few degrees. He then lifted it up and Nurek was stunned. In front of him, clad in armor thicker that the armor of armored vehicles, was a human male, who must have been sixty years of age. His face was covered in scars and complex tattoos. Before he could muster the strength to spit in the man's face, Nurek faded into darkness.

Ovidious watched the xenos male go limp in his battle-brothers arms, then turned to survey the aftermath. These xenos had done a fairly good job of utilizing their shield technology to hold against the combat servitors, but they couldn't out last them. He and his men had even had the time to secure their ship before teleporting here and annihilating this group while the serf-captain of their ship cleansed the xenos ships with nuclear fire.

"Captain Ovidious, You must depart for the Spartan Sector Immediately." Spoke Bothanus through the vox.

"The area is secure, what has happened, Lector?" He asked, puzzled by her request.

"Captain Ovidious, this is Captain Flavious, a Space-Hulk is approaching, numerous craft are launching from it, and they appear to be Green Skins."

"Activate the Teleportarium and retrieve us at once Captain Flavious." Commanded Ovidious, who was answered almost immediately by the crackles of lighting surrounded him and suddenly he was inside his Retrofitted Cobra Destroyer named "Wrathful Haste." Ovidious carried the unconscious xenos in one armored gauntlet as he strode from the Teleportarium. As he walked through the door he was approached by a group of half a dozen Chapter-Serfs.

"Semni, take this xenos to the medical bay and see to his wounds, keep him unconscious and prepare his body for interrogation." Ordered Ovidious.

"Immediately, my Lord." Answered the most senior of the group as they picked up the xenos and hurried away through the corridors.

Ovidious broke into a thunderous run for the bridge. After fifteen standard minutes of constant running through corridors and climbing staircases he arrived onto the bridge through large blast doors. He was greeted by calm and deliberate activity. The Chapter Serfs of the Spartans were critical to the chapter, also an integral part of chapter culture. So much so that they were only called chapter serfs by outsiders, inside the chapter, they were called Semni by Battle-Brothers, and Nostavi by the Initiates. They were responsible for all ship operations after the Spartans had deployed, often times the Monolith was left completely uninhabited by a single Spartan save the two hundred and fifty Spartans there to oversee the training of initiates. But even those two-hundred and fifty are often outside of the monolith, instructing their charges in battle drills, extensive quests, and training. During times like these the Semni were the masters and defenders of the monolith, with the Semnus Dominus as master of the Semni.

"Captain Flavious, what is the situation." Demanded Ovidious as he approached the Semnus-Captain of Wrathful Haste. The Captain turned, his naval uniform decorated with Spartan regalia and numerous medals upon his chest. Flavious wore extensive augments including an ocular augment, cogitators were implanted in his skull and he had a servo skull packed solely with cogitators connected to his head to permit him even more cogitator power to process the advanced battle tactics Ovidious preferred for deployment and extraction.

"The original seven xenos ships have been cleansed, but the Orks have deployed hundreds of boarding ships from a space-hulk, they are boarding the station and will surely overwhelm the combat servitors." Flavious spoke as the skulls red eyes gazed at tactical and ships systems displays while he personally still faced Ovidious.

Suddenly the Wrathful Haste was rocked by an enormous explosion. Debris crashed against the void shields and energy coursed around them.

"My Lord, the Station has just destroyed itself. The Ork boarding vessels are altering course for Wrathful Haste. I recommend we bring the new xenos to the Monolith for questioning." Recommended Flavious.

"Very well, proceed. Notify me when we have returned to Spartan Space." Ordered Ovidious.

"Of course, my Lord." Answered Flavious. "Power to the Gellar field. Prepare for Warp travel. Plot with the Navigator. Secure all hatches and increase the plasma reactor to eighty percent."

* * *

"Boss! Da station blew up! All da loot is gone!"

Skull-Basha let out a roar of rage and crushed the nobs head between his fist and the bulkhead. He felt, with great satisfaction, the nobs skull crumble underneath his hand like frail wood and the nobs brain turn into a thick slimy paste in his fingers.

"Boss, der's a thing out der." Spoke up a new nob as he gazed intently at his looky-bits. "It looks like a wahp hole. But it ain't wun! Der's gotz to be bits ta loot on da othah side of it!"

"Get us der ya git! Get da boardy-boats back 'ere and prep da ships!" Bellowed Skull Basha as he grabbed a squig and began to eat it alive, reveling in its screams as he devoured it bite by bite.

* * *

"Wait, Spartan-Ultimate Valerious, are you saying your chapter has successfully purged three Necron Tomb Worlds without committing Exterminatus upon those three worlds?" Inquired Inquisitor Siegfried.

Inquisitor Ardense spoke up "No Inquisitor he-" Siegfried held up his index finger in a polite, yet serious demand for silence. When it was met, Siegfried gestured for Valerious to elaborate.

"The Chapter did not participate as a whole. Elements of sector Imperial Navy and Imperial Guard quarantined the planet, while my Spartans established a perimeter around the tomb itself. The Seventh Maniple was sent into the Tomb to locate and destroy the Necron Lord. When they did the rest of the Spartans would assault the Tomb. We waited for twenty-three days with no word from the Seventh. We feared the worst, yet on the twenty-second hour of the twenty-third day, one-hundred and fifty of the one-thousand strong Maniple emerged from the Tomb, with Captain Mikhial Sardonus carrying the body of the Tomb lord over his head. When he was in view of the entire chapter he cried out for all to hear "WITNESS US!" To which the entire chapter bellowed to the stars "WITNESS OUR GLORY!" Captain Sardonus and then Spartan-Ultimate Gabriel Spartacus Nihilus came to the conclusion that the Seventh Maniple should specialize in combatting the possible threat of more Necron Worlds. They were prudent in this decision as another two Tomb-Worlds were discovered and the Seventh Maniple, also known amongst us as the Maniple Necros was successful in cleansing the newly discovered Tomb Worlds of Necrons with sustainable Spartan casualties." Answered Valerious, unashamedly proud of the achievements of his ancestors and his subordinates.

"Inquisitor Siegfried, The Seventh Company's success has enabled us to study the Necron technology and develop theoretical weapons against them. We do not have the resources of the Greater Mechanicus and were hoping reunification would allow us to present the designs to the Fabricator General." Contributed Arch-Magos Nkruma.

Siegfried paused after presented with this information. _These "Spartans" have far too many Astartes to tolerate. However, they have proven themselves during the sectors isolation and their part in halting the Great Schism. They committed Exterminatus on fourteen heretical worlds to preserve the Emperor's light despite their isolation. Now, with their emergence from isolation, they present us with one-hundred sixty-eight Imperial Guard regiments with all of their commanders requesting the most hostile and dangerous theaters. The Forge worlds offer eleven Titan Legions and seventeen Skitarii legions. They now offer designs for weapons to be used against the emerging Necron threat and have an entire Maniple of one-thousand Astartes who specialize in fighting the Necrons and have a one-hundred percent success rate against them._ Siegfried knew that the Imperium needed to crush the Necron threat immediately, but all of his efforts to gather resources and personnel to fight them was met with resistance as other Inquisitors felt that the Necrons fell under the jurisdiction of the Ordo Xenos. Siegfried felt that the Ordo Xenos, while powerful and efficient, simply didn't have the resources to properly combat the Necrons. _This will allow me to achieve what I could not before, a proper Ordo to combat the Necron threat discretely and successfully._

"Comrades, are you aware of the Necron threat beyond the Spartan Sector?" Siegfried asked hoping they wouldn't know.

"No, have the Necrons become a threat to the Imperium?" asked Valerius.

"A grave threat, however, they are not taken as seriously as they are not as numerous as the Green Skins or the Tyranids. I have a proposal that would satisfy all parties involved." Proposed Siegfried.

"What do you have in mind Inquisitor?" Asked Inquisitor Ardense.

"What I propose is this. The Imperium as a whole will never accept a chapter of your size unless you meet my standards and several others. The problem with this is that it seems when your Gene-seed was developed, deliberate genetic manipulation was used to create the two organs previously unknown to Astartes, coupled with your size of fourteen thousand. The Genetors of the Mechanicus will want a large tithe of gene-seed to insure that your chapter does not degrade into mutation. The standard is five percent. However, due to the size of your chapter and the mutation in your progenoid gland, I believe that you can tithe fifteen percent to the genetors sustainably. This will allow them ample Gene-seed to test, as well as help increase the stock of Gene-seed for successor chapters should they find your Chapter worthy." Elaborated Siegfried

"We would be honored to assist in further foundings of Astartes to protect the Emperor's domain." Answered Valerius.

"Additionally, I want you to second your Seventh Maniple to Inquisitor Ardense and me." Siegfried continued.

"Inquisitor, what are you planning?" Asked Ardense.

"You and I will forge a new Ordo Minoris. We will be completely dedicated to the destruction of the Necron threat. The Seventh Maniple will serve as the Chamber Militant of the Ordo Necros. We will travel under the cloak of the Spartans, allowing us to pursue our goals while hidden among plain sight. We will travel wherever we hear of a newly discovered Necron World, once there, we will observe for some flaw that the planetary government can't solve and we will provide them with the solution. But only after we cleanse the world of the Necrons." Explained Siegfried.

"Inquisitor, we are extremely academic when not at war. If we are to do this, than we will demand that the planets we, assist, compensate us with histories, artifacts, and cultural works and curiosities." Interjected Valerious. "Also, we demand the right to embark on Holy Pilgrimage to Terra to pray at the Eternity Gate of the God-Emperor."

"That is acceptable, however the number of Spartans on Pilgrimage will be limited to one-thousand Astartes and no more. Any more and your chapter will be labeled as heretics and dealt with accordingly. Unless deliberately summoned, no more than one-thousand Spartans will enter the Sol System. Also, at least one of your Battle Groups must be on crusade somewhere in the Imperium. You will be permitted to form what you call a "Grand Battle Group" at your discretion, however, you will be required to notify Imperial Officials of your doing so." Elaborated Siegfried.

Valerious nodded as he considered the Inquisitor's proposition. Siegfried new that, according to their own history, a Grand Battle Group was considered as any force mustered that was larger than a standard battle group of three-thousand Spartans and their support craft. It could range in size from an additional Grand Company being attached to a battle group to the entire Chapter rallying for war. Siegfried also knew that the Founders of the chapter had decreed that a Grand Battle Group could only be mustered by the Spartan Ultimate and only for a certain time, the Chapter could not permanently be organized into a Grand Battle Group as this would hamper tactical effectiveness. This he derived directly from the Spartans rendition of the Codex Astartes. It was vastly different than the Codex other chapters adhered to, but it was also incredibly similar. As to who the Founders were, Siegfried had no information. However the Spartans were as in the dark as he was. During a time of great darkness, a deamonic raid on the Monolith destroyed a large portion of their library and almost destroyed the chapter itself as the deamons almost gained access to the Apothecarion. Apparently the Chief Librarian of the Spartans stood against a Greater Deamon. Thousands of Chapter Serfs allegedly sacrificed their lives to the Chief Librarian to grant him the strength to cast down the Deamon. However, he lost his arm to a blade of Nurgle, and as the blade's poison took effect, the Apothecarions were forced to bestow him with the Emperors peace. This was why all Spartan's arms were painted black. This also resulted in all knowledge of the Chapter's founding being lost. Even the bodies of the Founders were lost, now only represented by a single effigy in the catacombs.

"That would be acceptable, Inquisitor. The Seventh Maniple will be seconded to the Ordo Necros." Agreed Valerious. Siegfried knew better than to take his acceptance as genuine. Valerious was a Space Marine. And Space Marines had autonomy just as he did. Seemingly, the Spartan Sector had continued to progress in parallel with the Imperium, much like two friends would continue walking through a forest despite them being separated for a brief time by a divergent path only to be reunited when the path reconstituted. However, Siegfried also knew that Valerious knew that his Chapter was dangerously large now that the reunification had come. If his Chapter hoped to retain its lack of the title of Excomunicate Traitorus, he would have to make some concessions to Inquisitor Siegfried.

Suddenly, the doors to the chamber opened and a figure strode through. It was another Spartan, however he wore a Psychic Hood marking him as a Librarian. The mane of red hair mounted to the bronze hood marked him as the Chief Librarian. A large book was mounted above his power pack, displayed half open. Siegfried did not understand the scripture scrawled across its surface, but he did not need to in order to understand its importance to the Librarian.

"Please pardon my intrusion Spartan-Ultimate. We have received a disturbing astropathic message from Captain Ovidious of the First of the Twenty-Eighth." Spoke the Librarian.

"Inquisitor, this is Librarius-Ultimate Cassius Armellus. Please continue Armellus." Spoke Valerious.

"Ovidious has encountered a new xenos race that has emerged from an anomaly. They attacked the station he was visiting and his ship with a force of some two-thousand warriors and seven ships. They were all purged save one whom they are bringing back to us for interrogation. He also states that a Green-Skin controlled Space-Hulk emerged from the Immaterium and attacked the station. The Orks are now en route to the anomaly." Reported Armellus.

"What did he report of this anomaly?" Asked Inquisitor Ardense.

"Only that it appears to function as a portal to another realm." Answered Armellus.

"Spartan-Ultimate Valerius, I charge you with the cleansing of the Green skins from the portal and whatever lies beyond. I will remain here to gather a retribution fleet and join you." Spoke Inquisitor Siegfried.

"I will join you Spartan-Ultimate." Spoke Inquisitor Ardense.

"Inquisitor, I respect you and the office you hold. I have welcomed you into my home with the most hospitality we have ever extended. Do not presume to order myself, or my Spartans, around like a common Guardsman. Armellus, Rally the Chapter in the Assimilarum. We shall embark on our First Crusade for the Imperium!" Proclaimed Valerius as he stood.

* * *

Counselor Schneider screamed in pain and fell from her chair next to Picard's. Her hands shot to her head as if to shield herself from something as she convulsed on the floor as agonized whimpers slipped past her clenched teeth.

"Medical Emergency, Doctor Crusher to the Bridge." Summoned Picard via his combadge and he was answered with a site-to-site transport. Dr. Crusher and three of her staff materializing in front of the view screen before rushing to Schneider's side. Crusher prepared a hypospray and then applied it to Schneider's jugular and injected her with some medication. That medication quickly proved to be a sedative of sorts.

"War! Destruction!" Schneider cried out, fear so visible in her eyes it was as if she were facing her own death. "They have no other thoughts! There is nothing but death and carnage! They aren't humans! Sir, these aliens literally crave war! They relish conflict!" She shouted as her body began to convulse again. Before she could collapse into spasms once more Crusher, having just asked for a double dose, applied the same sedative again and Schneider now fell unconscious.

"Let's get her to Sick bay." Ordered Crusher as her staff began to transfer Schneider to a stretcher.

"Sir, something is coming through the anomaly." Spoke up Lieutenant Farley from the Ops console.

"Red Alert. Put the gateway on screen." Ordered Picard as he returned to his chair in the center of the bridge. As he sat down the screen focused on the gateway. The gateway hadn't grown in the past few days, however it had yet to show any sign of collapse. As he watched, Picard saw numerous dots appear, grow larger and larger until apparent vessels emerged from the gateway.

"Magnify the lead vessel on viewer, open hailing frequencies." Ordered Picard.

"Hailing frequencies open." Reported Worf. "No response."

The view screen magnified and focused on the lead ship. It was ramshackle to say the best, with parts of numerous vehicles obviously thrown together haphazardly. Painted yellow with black and white checkering, they all had an innumerous amount of barrels of apparent weapons protruding from their cobbled hulls. The bows of the ships were crudely adorned with some sort of skull. It was crude at best, with one eye half closed and an oversized mandible. It was clearly made out of spare scrap plates.

"Tactical analysis Mr. Worf." Asked Picard as he turned to his tactical officer.

Worf read from his display as he tapped a series of commands into the console. "There are thirty-seven vessels coming through the anomaly, they do not match the configuration of the Mechanicus ship that came through earlier. Their designs are extremely different from each other but seem to match the same basic principle."

"Which is?" Asked Picard.

"Bring a lot of weapons to the fight. They are covered in weapons, sir." Worf paused as his console beeped and he looked down in surprise. "They are armed with projectile weapons." He said incredulously.

"Say that again, Mr. Worf?" Asked Picard. _Projectile weapons? No space faring race uses projectiles anymore._

"Confirmed, numerous projectile weapons are mounted throughout the ships, but all of them are of a very large caliber. I doubt they will be of any threat." Assured Worf.

Flashes of light soon covered the ships, now fully emerged from the gateway.

"They're firing!" Reported Worf.

"Evasive maneuvers." Ordered Picard. "Coordinate our efforts with the other Ship Captains."

The helmsman tapped a series of commands and two tactile controls emerged from the console. He took hold of a joystick on the right and throttle control on the left. The moment he touched the new controls Picard felt the Enterprise lurch as he began to execute various maneuvers. As the Enterprise began to move the projectiles collided with her ventral side. The bridge shook and sparks erupted from an unused console near the aft port of the bridge.

"Shields down to eighty-one percent." Announced Data.

"I thought you said they posed little threat?" Asked Picard after giving the order to return fire.

"I cannot explain this, sir." Answered Worf while furiously punching at his console to fire the various weapons that he had at his disposal.

Orange beams of light bloomed from the phaser arrays of the three ships on station, and photon torpedoes flew from their launch tubes and streaked towards the attacking ships. Just before they would have collided with the ships they struck shields and vanished in a ripple of space. Just then another volley of large projectile were sent screaming through the void of space, towards Picard's Task Force. Most of them collided with the O'Malley and punched clean through the older vessels shields. The shells that weren't part of the initial breakthrough of the O'Malley's shields and subsequently deflected, tore their way clean through the hull of the ship. Punching massive holes in the saucer section and severing the O'Malley's starboard nacelle pylon. The O'Malley tumbled through space as debris and bodies drifted from her broken form. Framework was clearly visible in the three large jagged holes torn through her.

"Helm, move us to protect the O'Malley." Ordered Picard briskly.

"Aye Sir."

"Scan for Survivors." Commanded Picard, hoping that the O'Malley was more than the scrap pile it appeared and still housed some remnant of her crew.

"There are sixty-one survivors." Answered Data.

"Fire at will and order the Homer to retrieve the survivors while we screen them. What's the scans on those ships?" asked Picard as he began to formulate a plan to retrieve the crew of the O'Malley."

"Sensors show that they over three kilometers long. They are heavily armed and armored, but their designs make no sense. There's no proper design to any of them. It seems like they were just cobbled together." Reported Data.

Everyone on the bridge was practically thrown from their stations as the Enterprise suddenly spun on her z-axis one-hundred and eighty degrees before she brought her nose up taking them down relative to the orientation of the incoming ships. Shells silently screamed through space where the Enterprise had just been and continued on their way until they would eventually be stopped by something. Before the crew could completely regain their composure they were almost thrown again as the helmsman continued the curve of the turn but executing another series of z-axis spins, making the Enterprise as difficult a target as possible.

"Mr. Worf, coordinate with the tactical officer of the Homer and focus fire on the lead ship." Ordered Picard. He watched as two dozen photon torpedoes and countless phaser strikes impacted with the rippling barrier but none penetrated.

"Report." Ordered Picard as another volley of projectiles collided with the ship.

"They're weapons are inaccurate at best, but the projectiles are having a devastating effect on our shields. Shields are down to forty-nine percent." Answered Worf.

"Are our weapons having any affect?" Asked Picard.

"Uncertain, what I believe to be their shield generator is showing fluctuating power levels. But their shields remain consistent."

"Helm, take us in a pass in front of the tightest cluster of enemy ships. Mr. Worf, prepare a spread of fifteen photon torpedoes to be deployed as mines. I want to try something."

The Enterprise suddenly accelerated and maneuvered in a half-circle, banking hard into the turn. The inertial stabilizers had to be offline or damaged because Picard felt himself get flung around his chair as the ship executed maneuvers that would make stunt pilots blush with amazement.

"Mines ready." Reported Worf as Picard held up his hand. "On my mark Mr. Worf."

The Enterprise rapidly approached the attacking ships, streaking across their path of travel as the Homer moved to recover survivors from the O'Malley. The Enterprise began to cross the path of travel of a cluster of four of the ships.

"Stand by." Calmed Picard, waiting for the right moment to deploy his mines. Just when his quick math indicated the ships couldn't alter course he practically yelled. "Deploy!"

A series of torpedoes were soundlessly deployed from the stern torpedo bay. The slipped out and soon became stationary as they're guidance thrusters stabilized their tumbling trajectories.

"Bring us about and fire. Lead them into the mines." Ordered Picard.

The Enterprise rotated one-hundred and eighty degrees on her Z-axis. And then used her bow thrusters to bring her bow up as she maneuvered away from the ships in an effort to make it look like they were tactically retreating. The ships took the bait and moved after the Enterprise launching volley after volley towards the Enterprise. Most of their shells missed, but some hit, and those few were enough to really damage the Enterprise as her shields were becoming critically low.

"Number One, why are their weapons so devastating against our shields?" Asked Picard, frustrated and angry over the fact that for projectile weapons they were exacting high casualties.

"They are standard projectile weapons, Sir. However they are so massive that our shields cannot easily repel them. The results are obvious." Answered Data as bulkhead was thrown from the wall as a relay behind it failed catestrophecally.

"Sir, the mines have gotten past their shields." Called out Worf as he continued to draw them towards the torpedoes. Suddenly, fifteen antimatter explosions rippled across the prows of the four ships. Their hulls cracked and the ships fragmented, clouds of atmosphere bloomed from the exposed sections and countless bodies tumbled into space. The ships engines flared, sputtered, but then reignited and plowed through the wreckage.

"Mr. Worf, lock phasers and destroy the remaining drive sections." Commanded Picard as he stood from his chair and surveyed the destruction. _It seems that energy weapons and fast moving objects can't penetrate the shields, but somehow slow moving objects can. This could be the key to these invaders defeat._ Thought Picard as the alien's shields had collapsed with the ships critical damage and their phasers now broke through the damaged sections and they ruptured the engine cores causing the drive sections to vanish in massive expanding spheres of fire and smoke.

"Prepare more mines for deploy-" Began Picard before he was cut off by Data.

"Captain, more ships are coming through the gateway." Reported Data.

"Continue evasive maneuvers, and put it on screen." Ordered Picard as he returned to his chair only to see the first wave of ships become consumed with a tidal outpour of more ships of myriad sizes. _It took fifteen torpedoes to cripple four ships. There's at least sixty ships here now and there's no immediate sign of the invasion halting. We could die here valiantly but vainly, or we can withdraw._

"What's the status of the O'Malley evacuation?" He asked as he came to the less appealing conclusion.

"They're beaming over the last survivors now." Answered Data as he consulted his console.

"Order them to withdraw to these coordinates" Spoke Picard as he punched in a series of coordinates into the Helm's console. "Relay these coordinates to the fleet on their way and set a course. Prepare to engage at warp seven."

"Course laid-" a sudden explosion from the helm station threw the young lieutenant from his chair and into Picard. Picard fell to the floor underneath the body. He grabbed the man's neck and felt for a pulse, nothing. He pushed the body off of him and rubbed his the back of his head.

"Transferring helm control to Ops." Reported Ensign Fletcher. "Coordinates laid in, sir."

"Is the Homer clear?" Asked Picard as another volley of the aliens weapons collided with the Enterprise.

"Shields down to ten percent!" Shouted Worf over another exploding relay.

"The Homer is clear." Appraised Fletcher.

"Engage." Ordered Picard.

* * *

Theoxus stepped back from his work bench, satisfaction would have been evident on his face, if he had a face. He picked up his project, a module that he could mount on his chest. When integrated into his systems, he could deploy a collapsible shield mounted to miniaturized mech-arm. He had studied the scorch marks on the shield he had improvised as well as studying the xenos weapons he took from the fallen Romulans. Their tech-heresy disgusted him, but he needed to learn more about their weapons. He tore apart their weapons component by component until he knew their inner most workings. The machine-spirits of the weapon obviously relished in their release from the heretical devices as he encountered no difficulties or protests from them.

His door pad beeped in his neural cogitators, setting down the module and taking his Bolt-Pistol in hand he approached the door.

"Identify yourself." He called out.

"It's Captain T'Mik and Commander Turner. May we speak with you?" Asked the female xenos. Theoxus loathed this xenos specimen and her gall to exert her heretical power over the humans onboard. But he had to tolerate her heresies. _Just their replicator technology alone could solve infinite problems for the Imperium._

"You may enter, but do not touch anything." He cautioned. The door opened and the two Federation officers appeared while four armsmen were in the hall. The officers entered his room and gazed around at the work he had done. The human called Turner was visibly stunned by Theoxus' utilization of the room he had brought him too. His eyes darted from work bench to work bench, trying vainly to comprehend the workings of the myriad mechanisms that churned and clattered throughout the room, finally coming to rest on the Forge in the center of the room. A billet of a metallic compounds Theoxus forged that was close to the standard of the Mechanicus was now cherry red with heat.

"Adept Theoxus, a number of your ships have attacked our ships still at the gateway. Why would they do this?" Asked T'Mik. _An Explorator fleet has already arrived? This is truly a blessing of the God-Emperor._

"Can you describe the ships?" He asked, trying to get an idea of the size and power of the fleet.

"We've received a transmission of the ships from the Enterprise. Would you like to see?" She asked as she approached the only untouched item, other than the replicator, in his room, the computer console.

Theoxus watched as images of the anomaly appeared on the small screen, the prows of ships became visible as they pushed through it, and Theoxus became filled with rage.

"How dare you insult the Imperium in that manner, xenos! Those are not Imperial ships! Those are Green-Skins!" He all but shouted at the two officers as they withdrew from him and the armsmen came into his room weapons drawn.

"Adept, what is a Green-Skin?" asked Turner. Theoxus worked to calm his justified rage.

"They refer to themselves as the Orks. They are a cruel and barbaric race of green skinned xenos who live for war. They destroy everything in their path." He explained while he also watched the footage, dozens of Green-skin ships continued to come through the anomaly. _The watch station must be destroyed. There's no planets nearby which can mean only one thing. These Orks are coming from a space hulk._

"How dangerous are they Theoxus?" Asked T'Mik.

"You must rally your fleets and destroy them immediately. You are about to experience a WAHG!" Advised Theoxus.


	5. V

_**I likes me a fight!**_

Janeway watched the video tapes of the Tech-Priest fighting the Romulans for the twelfth time, a cup of hot black coffee on her desk. She studied the video intently, watching him literally tear the Romulans apart while bellowing various sentences such as "FOR THE EMPEROR!" _Who is "The Emperor?"_ she let the data continue to play as the view switched from the cargo bay to the footage of the Tech-Priest's room as he injected T'Mik with some sort of fluid that caused her flesh to regenerate rapidly. Janeway had seen this twelve times, yet she couldn't help but cringe as she heard T'Mik's agonized screams while she desperately tried to free herself from the Tech-Priest until he released her newly regenerated arm.

"Replay time index eight." She spoke as she reached for her coffee.

The screen switched to the Gozen's shuttle bay. She again watched Theoxus jump thirty feet into the air while shouting loud enough that the audio file clipped "FOR THE EMPEROR!" She watched him lift the Romulans he had landed on and tear them in half above his head with his tentacles while he bellowed "THE FLESH IS WEAK!"

Her desk pad peeped and the voice of her secretary came through.

"A Captain Sisko is here to see you, Ma'am." Spoke Michael from his desk beyond her door.

"Thank you Michael, please send him in." She answered as she deactivated her terminal's display to keep the imagery on it from the eyes of those who didn't need to know.

The doors to her office opened and a man came in. He was tall, confident, his black skin flawless despite his history with the Dominion and Cardassians. He wore a standard captain's uniform, and a friendly, yet guarded smile. He walked up to her desk as she stood to greet him.

"Ben Sisko!" She called out as he approached her while she walked around the side of her desk to shake his hand warmly.

"Admiral Janeway, it's good to see you again." He greeted her as he shook her hand.

"How's Jake?" She asked as she motioned for him to sit at the coffee she kept for these occasions.

"Oh he's fine, working hard on his novels and trying to keep up with the times and reporting."

"Sounds like he's being kept pretty busy." She observed as she poured him some coffee.

"Not as busy as I think you're about to make me." He probed with a raised eyebrow.

"You're right. Everything you're about to hear is beyond top secret." She warned.

"It sounds like I'm about to be struck with amnesia." Sisko joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Janeway filled Sisko in on the Gateway project. She told him about the accident that opened the gateway. Sisko remained silent during the entirety of the recorded audio Captain T'Mik had sent her and during the video surveillance of his room, his battle with the Romulans, and the Gozen Doctor's scans of his body. When footage of the Tech-Priest working at his work stations played Sisko looked surprised.

"Why is this footage sped up?" He asked as he watched the priest build and then use the machines. "What do those machines do?"

"We have over eighty hours of this footage. Our best engineers have no clue how the machines work yet, but they know that one of them manufactures the ammunition he uses while the other produces chemicals such as the ones you saw him treat Captain T'Mik with." Answered Janeway.

"Doesn't he rest?" Asked Sisko.

"From what we've seen the closest thing he does to rest is praying at the altar of this "God-Emperor" and "Omnissiah" We know nothing of these deities save what he's told T'Mik. Apparently the God-Emperor has been alive since thousands of years before he built the Imperium of Man from the shattered remains of Humanity from the Age of Strife." Answered Janeway before taking another sip of her coffee.

"Right, and if he's telling the truth, than the Imperium has lasted for ten thousand years. Catherine, that's older than human and many other member civilizations of the Federation." Commented Sisko, traces of disbelief in his voice.

"Remember Ben, the failed gateway evidently leads over thirty-nine thousand years into the future." Janeway reminded him.

"But these people use Lasers and projectile weapons. Extremely deadly and brutal variants, but still." Continued Sisko as he tried to make sense of this.

"We still have a lot of questions, which we are going to ask when T'Mik brings this, Adept Theoxus, here within the hour." Began Janeway before she was interrupted by her com.

"A man is here to see you Ma'am. He identifies himself as a Commander Smith and insists he see you immediately." Spoke Michael.

"Thank you Michael. Please send him in." Spoke Janeway as Sisko began to stand but stopped when she gestured for him to stay seated with a silent, downward open hand.

A man, close to six feet tall, pale and well-built with slicked back black hair walked into the room briskly.

"Admiral, I must speak with you immediately." He spoke sharply before looking at Sisko expectantly.

"This is Captain Sisko, I've been briefing him on the Gateway and our Mechanical friend on his way. You can speak freely in front of him." She told him trying to ease his discomfort of Sisko's presence. It didn't work, evidenced by his uncomfortable shift in his weight as he spoke in a stiff tone.

"Admiral, we had a cloaked observance ship in the vicinity of the Gateway test site. After the catastrophic failure, the ship dropped cloaked subspace relay buoys and proceeded under orders to the Earth of the other universe to access the" He paused "Situation of the future."

Janeway and Sisko exchanged looks as they tried to look past the obvious disregard of the Temporal Prime Directive. Janeway gestured for Smith to continue.

"The ship passed through the gateway without incident and began to travel to Earth under warp nine point six." He continued "As of three hours ago we received an automatic distress call from the Discretion, attempts to raise her have been unsuccessful save one transmission we've received." He continued as he took out a small data chip and inserted it into the screen on her wall. He pressed a button and the transmission played, no video, only audio.

" _This is Starfleet Command hailing the U.S.S Discretion. Discretion, come in."_

 _Silence._

" _U.S.S. Discretion are you reading us? Please come in. U.S.S. Discret-"_

The caller was drown out by harsh and loud static. The static was continuous until it suddenly stopped. The silence was fleeting and only long enough for a single man's frantic and hushed breathing, shaking and obviously terrified.

" _Help!"_ he whispered before his voice was drowned out by a woman's cackling laughter and screaming before once again becoming consumed by static.

" _U.S.S Discretion, Say again. What are your coordinates?"_ followed by another minute of static before the channel went dead again.

"That was the last transmission we received from the Discretion. We've identified the male voice speaking as Captain Smith, we have no ID on the female voice and her voice doesn't match any of the female crew members." He continued.

Sisko spoke up now "Is that Mr. Smith's real name?"

"Ironically, it is." Answered the now obviously Agent Smith.

"And what do you want me to do about it, Mr. Smith?" Asked Janeway as she processed this new information.

"We need more information. We would, be ever appreciative, if you would have Captain Sisko take the Defiant under cloak into the other universe and find the Discretion. He will have command to do whatever he deems necessary provided he retrieves the information in the Discretion's computer." He explained.

"So you're perfectly fine with all of the crew's deaths, as long as I get the data?" Asked Sisko, incredulous that Starfleet Intelligence could be so uncaring of its own operators.

Mr. Smith disregarded this and continued. "If The Tech-Priest, and these Orks, are of any indication, we have a great deal of intelligence to gather and far little time."

Janeway nodded "I understand." She turned to Sisko. "Captain Sisko, I want you to take the Tech-Priest and go find the Discretion, then proceed to the Mirror Earth and gather some intelligence. After which you will return to me and report what you have learned in person." She elaborated.

"Understood, Admiral." He answered.

* * *

T'Mik walked through the corridors, repair crews still briskly walking back and forth around her as they carried out repairs. She flexed her left hand without looking at it. While she was grateful to have regained the use of her arm almost instantly, she had been totally unprepared for the sheer agony that was involved. She remembered her inability to pull herself from Theoxus' grip as she felt the searing pain of the medication regenerating her arm in such a way that it felt as if her entire body was being set on fire.

"Oops, sorry Captain." Spoke a crewman after T'Mik walked into her. Jarred out of her self-analysis, T'Mik realized she had almost passed the Adepts quarters. T'Mik drew in a deep breath as she reached for, and activated the door chime.

"Identify yourself." The Tech-Priest demanded in his almost malevolent voice.

"It's Captain T'Mik, we've reached Earth and if you're ready, we can go down to the surface to meet with Star Fleet Command." She called out to the microphone. The doors parted and a cloud of incense smoke plumed from his room as Theoxus exited, his crimson robed billowing. He walked so briskly, his augmented feet pounding against the floor like a relentless war drum, that T'Mik had to jog to catch up to him.

"If you agree we will beam down to the planet." She prompted.

"That is acceptable." He answered curtly. T'Mik was used to this treatment. She knew Theoxus didn't like her, although she had been hopeful that she could sway him. _Mother always did call me optimist._ As she walked, power-walked really, with Theoxus she noticed a new piece of equipment mounted to his chest.

He wore a large chest piece with tubes that traveled from the piece into his throat and snaked under his robes. The chest plate was unpainted steel with brass accents and it prominently featured the raised half-skull and cog insignia of the Mechanicus. It didn't have any straps or other securing devices, leading T'Mik to conclude that he secured the plate directly to his body.

They reached the transporter room and T'Mik stepped onto the pad next to Theoxus.

"Ma'am, I'm reading multiple weapons signatures. Protocols prohibit weapons in Starfleet Command." Warned Mr. Reid prior to transport.

Theoxus turned towards her "I will not be disarmed. Combat Doctrine dictates that all Imperial forces will remained armed at all times." He spoke flatly and almost as a challenge, as if he wanted her to try to disarm him.

"Please inform Starfleet Command of the exception Mr. Reid." She ordered and was answered with a nod.

"Energize." She commanded and watched the ever so familiar dissolve transition from transporter room to the destination.

Skull-Basha was as pleased as an Ork that wasn't fighting could be. His boys had deployed their fleet of one-hundred and sixty ships from Ball-O-Gutz.

"Boss! All da ships is thru da space hole." Shouted a nob as it ran into the Boss-Bridge.

"Wat about da Ball-O-Gutz? I wants it thru da hole!" He grunted.

"Da Mech-Boys is workin on itz. Dey workin to break it aparts and putz it back togethah on da othah side." He answered.

"Any Pinkie worlds?" Skull-Basha asked.

"Yeah yeah! Dere's two planets with lot's o' bitz ta loot! Dey's a bit away." The nob continued.

"Git all me boyz dere pronto!" Shouted Skull-Basha, eager to get to fighting. The ships he fought when his fleet first passed through the space-hole had been weak and hadn't posed a good fight. His boys were restless and needed a planet to smash.

Theoxus materialized in a room so spacious and wasteful he sighed in anger and remorse at how wasteful and opulent this federation was. As he viewed his surroundings he noticed four armsmen armed with hand phasers as they were called. _As if four men could stop me._ He thought as he plotted how he'd kill every one of them should the need arise.

"Adept, Captain, the Admirals will see you now." Spoke a thin boy who looked as though he wouldn't survive a week of Imperial Guard training.

"Thank you, please lead the way." Spoke the xenos woman who then followed the boy.

Theoxus followed, loath to be led by a boy obviously a fraction of his age. He viewed his surroundings as they walked through several corridors with the armsmen in tow. The corridors were a pale cream with plain carpeting throughout. There seemed to be a limited number of door designs as the same door theme on the Federation ships he was on was prevalent throughout the building. Finally, after far too long following this child, he walked through a door and the child spoke.

"Admirals, Captain T'Mik and Adept Theoxus are here."

A voice from inside the room said "Please send them in Michael."

Michael gestured for them to enter and Theoxus let T'Mik enter first to be sure there were no traps. Satisfied there were no such traps he entered the room and looked around before his visual augments came to focus on five adults. They sat around a large circular table that had two empty seats across from them. T'Mik took the empty seat to the left and the admirals looked at Theoxus expecting him to sit. Wanting to ensure that the Imperium could obtain their technology before they mobilized for combat he obliged them and sat down, feeling the chair strain to hold his weight.

"Adept Theoxus, I offer you our greetings on behalf of the Federation." Spoke a human female with white skin, brown-red hair, and her uniform bore numerous gold trim. She sat second from his left next to a black bald man whose uniform lacked the ornamentation that the rest wore. To her left sat a male xenos with blue skin and two small tendrils on his forehead. Next to him sat another male human, this one pale with slanted eyebrows. The woman next to him bore the same ears as T'Mik. Theoxus Identified the two xenos as an Andorian and a Vulcan from the Database he'd accessed on the Gozen. Both were easily destroyable.

"I accept your greetings and offer my own." Greeted Theoxus as he placed his hands on his chest module in the form of the Aquila.

"Allow me to introduce myself and my fellows. I am Rear-Admiral Janeway, to my right is Captain Benjamin Sisko. To my left are Admiral Sonath, Admiral Kazuki, and Admiral Esar respectively." She introduced as she gestured to each of them in turn. Theoxus used his augmented eyes to inspect them all one at a time. Their heart rates were elevated and their pupils were constricted, Theoxus even observed through the table the Andorian xenos tapping his foot. Obviously they were apprehensive. _Good._

"Admirals, I formally inform you that the Romulan attack on my ship, myself, and undoubtedly the Holy observation station OS-197482 is an act of war." He warned them. "They shall be destroyed by the Emperor's will and his faithful servants."

The admirals paled slightly, but they obviously expected this.

"The Romulan Star Empire stands alone in its actions against the Imperium of Man, Adept. Also, we have dispatched an ambassador to the Earth of your universe." Began Janeway.

"You should not have done so without first dispatching an Astropathic message. Holy Terra is an impenetrable fortress. Your emissary will be destroyed as a spy before he enters the Sol system. He does not have the proper clearance to enter, and even if he did he has no way to transmit them. Your people lack a single Vox Caster and rely on subspace communications." Theoxus spoke, angry that these federations had the gall to enter Imperial space.

"How does the Vox Caster work, Adept?" Asked admiral Sonath. Theoxus ignored the Andorian xenos, unable to restrain himself should he speak to him and addressed his answer to the human male next to him.

* * *

Pon snored loudly as he rested his head on the desk of his watch station that was part of the defense of the Klingon colony on Verix II. He'd had a long night of boisterous fighting and drinking with his brother Klingons the night before and was nursing a hangover. Given the, excitement, or rather mind-numbing dullness of his assignment he felt that he could sleep for a while without compromising his duties.

That was until the screen began to flash red and an alarm tone began to warble loudly. Startled, Pon jerked awake and knocked over a glass of blood wine in the process. Cursing under his breath he looked at the screen and had to rub his eyes, turn away and look again. He smashed the com button to colonial defense commander.

"Sir! Early warning systems are picking up hundreds of contacts inbound. They are metallic and do not correspond with the movement of asteroids. I believe it is a Federation strike force!" He frantically spoke into his speaker as calm and thoroughly as his hangover would allow.

"Understood." Was the only word spoken from the other side of the conversation.

Almost immediately after the signal was broken, alarm claxons blared throughout the colony. Pon grabbed his disruptor rifle, pistol, and his Mek'leth and sprinted for the rally point. As he left the building he looked up and saw hundreds of trails of smoke hurdling towards the colony.

"To me brothers!" Shouted Commander Korg from an elevated platform. "Rally to me!" He shouted again as he held his rifle above him.

Sonic booms echoed as the descending objects slowed, the warriors turned and saw ships begin to emerge, falling on trails of smoke and fire, they slowed and maneuvered around the colony. Civilians ran from their homes, men and women alike drawing small personal weapons as they hurried their children to the shelters.

"These invaders aren't Federation!" Shouted Korg as he pointed at a ship now dropping green figures from its doors followed by mechanical walkers. "But they'll die cowardly deaths regardless! The Chancellor himself has been told what is happening here, he has assured me that thousands of warriors will be here in hours. We will hold until reinforcements get here! Evacuate the civilians to the shelters and make ready to die glorious deaths and be greeted by Kahless!" He shouted as he aimed at a green figure rounding the corner and fired. The disrupter severed the figures arm and it howled in anger and pain.

"Youz gonna die ya git!" It shouted as it pointed a massive axe at Korg before charging straight at him regardless of the eight-hundred warriors present. Pon aimed his weapon with the others that had clear lines of fire and shot, killing the foul creature before it could take another step forward.

"Bring on da Dakka!" Yelled another green skin from atop a building as he raised a weapon and fired dozens of projectiles at the crowd of warriors. They impacted with the ground throwing up plumes of dirt and pavement as the green-skin's weapon roared and the thing wielding it let out a bellow. The warriors all fired their weapons at the figure, its elevation proving to be its downfall as hundreds of disruptor bolts vaporized him.

"You know your orders! Now go! Bring glory to the Empire!" Korg shouted as he leapt down from his platform and charged toward the massing hordes on the hills outside the colony.

Pon followed Korg's lead, bellowing a war cry. Hundreds of other warriors joined the main assault while others split off left and right. The invading aliens saw this and the horde massing on the hills sprinted for the colony like a green landslide. Pon looked up into the sky and witnessed hundreds of trails of smoke cross the sky. Aircraft dove down and dropped bombs on buildings and the few civilians left causing both of them to vanish in balls of fire. Some craft dropped massive mechanical things that had multiple arms attached to a large cylindrical can with a crude face on it. They stomped their way towards Pons and his fellow warriors, blades whirling and guns blazing.

"Take cover! Open fire!" Shouted Korg as he jumped onto the fortified roof of a bunker and began to fire indiscriminately into the invading horde. Hundreds of disruptor bolts leapt for the attacking aliens, vaporizing some, harmlessly impacting with armor on others.

"Auto-turrets up!" Called out an engineer as what had appeared to be steel barricades and blocks parted their tops and grew heavy weapons on top. They paused for a brief moment as their targeting scanners swept the area and then released a torrent of disruptor blasts so numerous that there appeared to be fountains of green energy spewing from the weapons barrels. These turrets immediately drew the hostile's fire and allowed the Klingons to break cover and add their own fire to the now uncountable disruptor bolts exacting significant casualties against these aliens. The problem with the auto-turrets was their benefit. They drew fire.

As the auto-turrets rained surgical death the invading aircraft turned their attention to the turrets and began strafing runs since they'd prematurely expended their bombs on the structures of the colony. A number of auto-turrets immediately turned their efforts skywards and began to pluck the aircraft from the sky as if an invisible hand suddenly flicked them apart.

"Get the anti-air up!" Shouted Korg as he stood next to an auto-turret and rained glorious death on the Empires enemies. Pon paused to reload his weapons power supply and looked around the battle, remembering lessons in basic school. _Always maintain constant situational awareness! If you are not constantly aware of everything around you, you may as well close your eyes and try to fight without your sight!_ His instructor had shouted to his class as the other instructors stunned every student that failed to constantly be aware of their movements during that combat exercise.

Pon was not encouraged by what he saw. Dozens of warrior's bodies littered the ground in his immediate surroundings. They were not intact, but lay strewn in various states of disembowelment and severed limbs or decapitation. Some were still alive, clutching their entrails and crying out for medics as they continued to discharge their weapons into the horde drawing ever closer.

Pon finished reloading his weapon and broke cover once more to fire into the horde. However, the horde was different. The giant multi-arm cans had reached the erected walls and promptly smashed through them. Little green things scurried about the battle and hacked at the legs of the warriors, cackling joyfully as they severed limbs and then jumped onto the chests of downed warriors and hacked them apart with crude blades.

"Demo-packs Forward!" Shouted Korg from atop a can-walker shooting at its arm joints, pausing only to gut a little green alien that climbed the can and tried to hack at him.

Groups of Klingons ran closer to the line and grabbed small packs, only a matter of inches across, from their belt. They quickly tapped the arming trigger on the packs and then hurled them at the cans. Four of the ten in their immediate area vanished in explosions. Encouraged, the Warriors prepared more packs and hurled them towards the remaining cans while they were sweeping their large buzz saws amongst the warriors showering the living in a rain of pink blood. Korg leapt from the mechanical can just before an explosion cracked it in half, he tucked and rolled once he hit the ground, springing to his feet and vaporizing a larger aliens head with a point-blank shot from his disruptor.

The green tide collided with the warriors and the battle degenerated into a mad brawl. Aliens were slain only to have their place immediately taken by another. Warriors fault boldly but it was a losing fight, they had to disengage. Pon saw Korg inhale as he was about to bellow but then he was stopped when a truly massive alien bellowed from several dozen meters away

"We'z gotz a fight 'ere boyz! Dis 'ole planet belongs to da Orks!"

* * *

Chancellor Martok and the High council listened to the now general distress signal.

"This is the Klingon colony on Verix II, we are under heavy attack from thousands of green skinned aliens calling themselves Orks. We are in danger of being overrun. We need immediate assistance!" Pleaded an unknown Klingon voice as sounds of battle bled into the signal.

"Our brother and sister Klingons are under attack!" Declared Martok for all to hear. "These green skinned aliens have attacked our colony. They have attack us. They have attacked every single Klingon throughout the empire! Rally the fleets! Muster our armies! We march to war!"

He was joined by shouts of agreement from the rest of the council. Surprising for Martok as the council was usually sedentary in coming to any decision. Yet he would not question their fervor but instead harness it. Martok walked down the stairs in the council chamber and waved for the council to join him.

"With me brothers, we are going to send a quadrant wide transmission." Spoke Martok as he stood in the middle of the council chamber with the entire council beside him, the emblem of the Empire displayed prominently on the wall behind them.

"Send this across all channels throughout the quadrant." Ordered Martok.

"Ready, Chancellor." Reported a nameless technician.

"To all peoples of the Alpha Quadrant. The Klingon Empire has been attacked by an alien race identifying as the Orks. They have committed an act of war and we shall drive them from our space without pity or remorse! To our brothers and sisters on Verix II; We are coming! And we will rain destruction and death upon our enemies!" He all but shouted to his viewers.

* * *

"Absolutely not!" Theoxus all but shouted at the convening commanding admirals of this Federation. "I will not 'simply modify' our sacred technology! The Vox Caster alone is technology older than your Federation hundreds fold!"

"Adept, if we can't communicate with your ships, than any hope of some sort of peaceful treaty is a moot point." Pointed out Admiral Kazuki. _Clever, admiral, trying to play on my apparent desire for peace. You will be the first I slay in our glorious crusade._ Thought Theoxus as he gazed at the admirals in an unceasing electronic glare. His pause caused Admiral Sonath to shift his weight, not so obviously that his fellows could tell, but just obvious enough for Theoxus to derive pleasure from the xenos' discomfort.

None the less, Admiral Kazuki raised a valid point. How could the Humans of this universe pay tribute to the Imperium if they didn't even know how to communicate with Imperial forces?

"I will construct a Vox Caster, however I will modify your systems to function with the Vox. Omnissiah blessing me with benevolent Machine Spirits you will be able to communicate with Imperial Forces when they arrive in this universe to purge the Green-Skins." _And conquer this galaxy for the Emperor._ Theoxus failed to add.

"Excellent. On another note, Adept. We have lost contact with our Ambassador on route to, Holy Terra?" Janeway looked up at Theoxus with a raised eyebrow to insure that she was correct in her wordage. Theoxus only nodded.

"We have lost contact with them and they are transmitting an automated general distress call. We would like you to accompany Captain Sisko aboard his ship, the Defiant, in a search for it and then proceed to Terra and help Captain Sisko act as an ambassador between our two governments." She continued. "If you have any ideas as to what fate may have befallen our ship we would be greatly interested in any information you can provide."

Theoxus thought for a split nano-second to them, however it was ample time for him to contemplate. _I might be able to intimidate them into giving me their technology here. Or at least convey to them how hopeless any attempt at resistance to the Imperium will be on their part._

"The galaxy is immense, and Humanity is its master. We have earned this divine right by way of the Emperors Great Crusade. During the following two hundred years the Emperor and his Primarchs led the Space Marine legions of hundreds of thousands of Adeptus Astartes as the tip of his Holy Spear. They, with the might of the Imperial Armies and massive fleets of the Imperial Navy conquered the galaxy in Humanity's name. However there are countless enemies of Humanity that have tried for eleven millennia to take our right from us, unsuccessfully as they have all been driven away by our incomprehensible might. Those that would seek to see humanity destroyed are legion. There are the Orks, who have launched a small WAAAHG! Into your space, they are a primitive and brutish green-skinned xenos race that lives only for war. There are the enigmatic Eldar who live for millennia. They are a dying race, yet they fight with fervor and surgical precision. There are the Tau, a fledgling blue-skinned xenos race with relatively advanced technology. Their empire is small and it is only a matter of time until they are destroyed. The ship may have been attacked by pirates from their bases in wild space. Countless heretics wage war against the Imperium, before the Emperors sledgehammer and scalpel of the Astra Militarum and Adeptus Astartes respectively crush the life from their heretical forms. There is also the emergent Necron threat. A race of sentient, living machines beyond eons old. It is rumored that they have lived since over sixty million years ago. They have no desire other than to purge all life from the galaxy."

Theoxus watched with pleasure as the Admirals paled more and more as he describe the Imperium's enemies.

"Yet while the Necrons' goal is to exterminate all life" He continued. "The Tyranids' ultimate goal is to consume all life. They advance from unknown origins beyond the galaxy and devour all in their path. They consume the entire biosphere of a planet, and then use those resources to birth the invading force of the next planet and continue to do so, their numbers growing until they are unstoppable. They seek not to negotiate. Only to consume, they see us, and you, only as prey."

The admirals exchanged glances with each other, their vitals increased obviously. Even the Vulcan xenos, whom Theoxus had read suppressed their emotions through ritual and meditation, had paled and her heart rate had jumped by five percent.

"That is not all we have stood against for millennia. The forces of Chaos, the arch-enemies of the Emperor, are ever persistent in pursuing their twisted goals. They are ruled by the four Dark Gods, Khorne, Nurgle, Tzeentch, and Slaanesh. Khorne is the dark god of war, bloodshed, rage and violence. His followers wage war purely for the sake of spilling blood for the blood god and gathering skulls for his skull throne. Nurgle is the dark god of decay, disease, and pestilence. His followers are rotting, fighting corpses that spread myriad diseases with every breath they take. Tzeentch is the god of plots and subterfuge, none know his true goals and he pulls the strings of his followers like a puppet master over uncountable puppets. Slaanesh is the dark god of hedonism and excess, he thrives on the pleasure and agony of his deviant servants as they revel in their dark hedonistic pleasures and torture their slaves into something beyond insanity, well past when their spirits and bodies break. Chaos' only goal is the complete fall of the material universe into complete and utter destructive bedlam. Against these foes, Mutant, Heretic, Xenos, and Daemonic alike, we have stood triumphant for over ten millennia. Your ship was ill prepared for the horrors that awaits it." Theoxus concluded as he looked at the admirals. All of them, including the Vulcan xenos, were obviously disturbed and frightened by Theoxus' description of the Imperium's enemies.

 _Good. Now they will not dare to stand against us._

Sisko worked to keep a calm composure, but inside his stomach was doing summersaults and his heart was racing. _How can a universe be so terrible._

Janeway was the first to break the silence that engulfed the admirals as they processed this new information.

"With that information, we again ask that you travel with Captain Sisko to look for our lost ship, and then travel to Terra. However, we ask one more thing of you." She asked.

Sisko watched the Tech-Priest sit there for a moment, his tentacles twitched once while his five green lit eyes glared constantly.

"And that is?" he, or more accurately it, asked in its disembodied mechanical voice.

"That you build a Vox caster for use here, and when you join Captain Sisko that you build one for his ship as well. We will modify our systems to accommodate the Vox casters." Explained Janeway, to which the rest of the staff nodded agreement.

Sisko didn't join them in their nods, but kept his eyes on the Tech-Priest.

"Very well. There is one matter though, Captain Sisko's crew must be purely human without any xenos ancestry. Should you fail to crew the ship with pure humans the ship will be cleansed the moment the Imperium detects it." He spoke.

Sisko expected this turn, at his request Janeway had issued shore leave for all of his crew with 'xenos' ancestry, and supplanted them with pure human crew handpicked for this mission. Yet he was still troubled. Even the Romulans seemed to be less xenophobic as these Imperials.

"We've already taken care of that." Answered Kazuki.

"Then I will build you a Vox caster." Concluded Theoxus "Captain Sisko, make your ship ready."

* * *

Pon ran for the tertiary defense perimeter. These Orks had stalled at the primary defense ring, mainly due to the auto turrets, yet it had only taken twenty minutes for them to overrun the perimeter and destroy the turrets. After Korg's death at the hands of a large Ork who stomped on his head to kill him the surviving five hundred and so Klingons fell back to the second perimeter, covered by the energy mortars being manned by the women as to allow more warriors to fight on the line. Yet even the second perimeter was overrun by dozens of can-walkers, thousands of infantry and two truly enormous combat walkers had utter crushed the second perimeter.

"Man the barricades! Arm every last civilian! We must hold until the KDF arrives!" Shouted Captain Sung'pa, who had taken over the colony's defenses after Korg's death. That had been thirty-five minutes ago.

Pong leapt over the barricade and ducked behind it. He picked up a dropped rifle and checked its charge. _Seventy-six percent. Excellent._ He glanced behind him at the now visible mortars and saw that the women had abandoned them, claiming rifles and blades and running to the barricades to join the now four-hundred and some warriors. The energy mortars were now manned by children, the oldest ones screaming out orders and giving coordinates while the younger ones did the grunt work that required less thinking.

"Not one step back! We hold here!" Roared Sung'pa.

Pon braced on the barricade and began to methodically aim and fire at the heads of the crazed green Orks. Three fell without heads, sickly green blood oozing out of their stumps of necks. Pon continued to fire, missing some, hitting others. The Orks had once again closed to twenty meters, Pon began to see from the hill the colony sat on just how numerous these Orks were. Every surface save buildings rippled with green activity as far as he could see. Pon briefly considered their odds, but knowing them to be hopeless, put it out of his mind as to not fuel any traces of cowardice.

"OI! Ya Gitz think youz can stop me boyz? Wez gonna crush ya good!" bellowed the largest of these Orks that Pon had seen from thirty meters away. "Dis 'ol planet belongs to me! Dis 'ol planet belongs to Skull-Basha!"

Suddenly, a series of massive explosions rippled across the hills beyond the colony. They traced lines of fireballs and concussion waves, scattering and tossing far away Orks like paper dolls in the wind. Pon watched the glory of the destruction.

"Was that supposed to hurt my boyz?" Shouted Skull-Basha as he laughed "I likes me a good fight!"

The carnage began to fade away. _Have I been hit? Am I dead?_ Thought Pon as he watched the battle continue to fade rapidly. He had his answer when a moment later the interior of a Klingon ship faded into view. The lighting was dim, the universal sign to Klingons that the ship was operating cloaked. Next to Pon stood Sung'pa, and in front of them stood none other than Chancellor Martok.

* * *

Inquisitor Siegfried stood on the raised platform at the front of the Spartan's Assimularum. It followed the style of architecture he was beginning to associate with the Spartans, colossal. The room was five hundred meters tall, with the platform he stood on two-hundred and fifty meters up the front wall. Above him was a massive screen that stood dozens of meters tall so as every occupant of the Assimularum could see the platform and its occupants. The room was two kilometers wide, and four kilometers long. The entire floor of the room was completely consumed by Spartans. All fourteen thousand of them were here now, organized into their Grand Companies, Holy Maniples, and Sacred Corps. They all held their storm-shields and power-halberds that Siegfried read they had to forge themselves under the supervision of a tech-priest after completing various quests. Numerous Dreadnoughts were scattered across the companies, Siegfried's augment eye made out the markings of venerable dreadnoughts, several chaplain dreadnoughts, and even a librarian dreadnought.

Their chapter and company banners stirred as the air brushed against them, circulated by the air processors of the Monolith. Siegfried's augmented left eye zoomed on the closet of the banners and saw that each banner bore a single human skull. Proving the histories of the Spartans one fraction more. Siegfried had read that the banners of every company, maniple, and corps bore the skull of the first leader of that group of Spartans, with the banner of the first grand company bearing the skull of the first Spartan-Ultimate. On the back wall of the Assimularum were dozens of platforms, these were currently occupied by the Spartan's Auxilla Corps.

Siegfried had further read that the Spartans did not utilize scouts in their chapter, but trained them fully before releasing them into the chapter as reinforcements for returning forces as fully realized Marines. The Auxilla Corps numbered in the dozens of thousands, yet they did not leave the Spartan system, and often times not even Sparta itself. Operating as supplementary defense forces for the sector when the opponent was too strong for the guard and too minor for the Spartans. By the time the trainees had been posted to a company of Spartans, they had received twenty-one years of training.

Spartan-Ultimate Valerius strode onto the platform in his full artificer armor, his helmet in his right hand. The entire Assimularum immediately fell silent and waited for him to speak. He didn't. He instead continued to walk and placed his helmet on a stand, the only piece of furniture on the platform. This stand bore a skull as well. This skull, according to the Spartan's histories, was the skull of the first Spartan ever created.

Having placed his helmet on this stand Valerius walked to the edge of the platform and stopped a mere two feet from the edge separating him from a two-hundred and fifty meter fall.

"Spartans!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice carrying across the Assimularum, enhanced and further carried by vox speakers. Every Spartan raised and slammed the end of their power-halberds as one, generating a single ominous boom that echoed across the Assimularium.

"Today, we embark on our most holy crusade!" Continued Valerius. "Today, we prove our fidelity to the God-Emperor!" His voice echoed across the Assimularum. "Today, we purge his foes from the universe and bring salvation to his servants! Today, I call on all Spartans to serve with me! Today, I christen the formation of Grand Battle Group Fidelity!" He bellowed as he held his arms open and up.

The Spartans answered with another massive boom of their Power-Halberds, electricity coursing along their blades creating a dim blue hue throughout the floor of the Assimularum.

"The Imperium of Man has been attacked by a new xenos race! They call themselves, 'Romulans!'" Continued Valerius. "They emerged from a portal, discovered several days ago. This portal leads to another universe. One that we shall lead the crusade to conquer in the name of the Holy Emperor!"

He paused as another boom echoed throughout the Assimularum.

"We have stood together, my brothers." He spoke now, his voice still echoing throughout the assimularium. "We have stood for over six-thousand standard years. During that time we have faced the Orks, the Eldar, and the Deamon. We have held firm despite absolute destruction! We kept the Emperor's light bright and ever present, even when the Astronomican's light went out! We cast down the traitors of the Great Schism! We cast down the fragment WAAGH! of Gutz-Eata! We cast down the Eldar and their webway portals throughout the Spartan Sector! We cast down the Necrons of the Black Awakening! We are the defenders of humanity. The Emperor stands with us, and we will feel the purity of his righteousness! We will release the Imperium's indomitable fury against our countless enemies! No fortress, no world, no world, no race can withstand the Emperor's righteousness. No fury can overcome his protection. The Emperor's light cleanses even the darkest corruption, sunders even the strongest curse, and purifies the gravest of heresy. We shall bring his glory and salvation to those who embrace him and his ideals. Through death, sacrifice, duty, honor, we have preserved the Emperor's realm! We have preserved his faithful subjects! We are Spartans, we are the Emperor's finest, we know no fear and we have remained ever faithful!" He cried out as if to the Emperor himself. The Spartans answered his cries with three successive booms of their power-halberds.

"They shall witness us!" Valerious bellowed!

"They shall witness our glory!" shouted the dozens of thousands of Spartans and Spartan initiates as one. The Assimularum shook, and reverberated with their shouts.

"For the Founders!" Shouted Valerius and his Spartans together. "For the Emperor!"


	6. VI

_**The Sea of Souls**_

Author's Note: My deepest of thanks to all who enjoy this story for your feedback, and perhaps more importantly your patience. My life have been considerably busy between Clinicals at my local hospital for Paramedic school. Studying for my National Practical/Cognitive exams for my Paramedic cert. as well as my job as an EMT, and gearing up for the next semester of college and season of hunting. I am still writing, but further chapters may follow a similar pace. I'll still strive to write as much as I can as frequently as I can. Again, many thanks to you all for your patience and your enjoyment of this story!

Regards,

Murican P8triot

Spartan-Ultimate Valerius knelt next to Librarius-Ultimate Armellus in front of the Effigy of the Founders, clad in robes of crimson and bronze thread. The guards at the entrance now prevented any from entering the Vault of the Founders until further ordered. The effigy was millennia old, cracked with age. It bore a shield and power sword in stoic readiness. The rest of the chapter was forming up for their traditional Parade of Crusades that was held at the formation of every Grand Battle Group. Meanwhile, the two of them descended into the Vault of the Founders. Now they offered their prayers up to the Founders represented by the single effigy. Armellus handed Valerius one of the chapter's most sacred artifacts, an ancient knife whispered by legend to have been cast in the Forges of Mars and carried by the Founders until their deaths in the then Hellenic Sector, now the Spartan Sector.

"With this blade, I spill my blood as every Spartan has for the Emperor." Valerius prayed as he used the blade to cut a single, slender incision along his posterior forearm. After he finished the cut he held his arm over the feet of the effigy and watched as the blood sprinkled the feet of the unmarked space marine statue. He then handed the long blade to Armellus.

"With this blade, I spill my blood as every Spartan has for the Emperor." Echoed Armellus as he did the same, sprinkling his blood on the feet of the statue before their wounds healed completely within minutes.

They spoke together as they held their healing cuts over the base of the statue and the flow of their blood slowed, then stopped as their cuts healed. "We are able to spill our blood, and in turn our enemies blood, by the great deeds and sacrifices of the Founders by the will of the most holy Emperor of Mankind, master of the galaxy, master of all."

A moment after they finished their brief prayer, the statue shook, moved towards them several inches, and then parted to the side revealing a single passage. The corridor was fifteen feet tall by six feet wide, as large as the effigy itself. Gaius Spartacus Valerius and Cassius Armellus stood and walked down the passage until they reached a single thin staircase. They descended down the staircase for fifty feet until they once again stood in front of a door. Made from solid armor plating, it was alleged by the secret histories that it was carved from the hull of the Founders original Battle Barge.

"I am the Emperors wrath incarnate, his fortitude manifest, his purity personified." Declared Valerius, and was rewarded by the door parting along a previously invisible seem.

Valerius and Armellus walked through the ancient and secret doorway into a large room, its walls covered by catacomb-like alcoves. In each alcove lay a single space marine, clad in the power armor of their original chapters. Valerius and Armellus surveyed the remains. Numerous symbols and Icons glaring back at them defiantly. They represented the single greatest threat to the Spartans and six other space marine chapters. Throughout the chamber were the chapter's most sacred, and secret artifacts. Held by numerous mechanisms atop intricately carved pillars and inside eerily lit alcoves all their own, they hummed with power unexercised for millennia. They were holy relics carried by the Founders when they were stranded in the then Hellenic sector by the Great Storm. They would reveal the identity of the Founder's chapters should these relics ever come to light.

"Cassius, are the psychic wards holding?" Asked Valerius as he walked down a spiral stone staircase in the center of the chamber followed by Cassius Armellus.

The room they entered was dark, not in lighting, but in contents. The chamber bore the remnants of darkness and heresy. Tainted relics from the Great Schism, that should they be discovered would be the undoing of everything built here and elsewhere in the Imperium.

"The wards are holding Gaius. There is no trace that these relics have been discovered by the Inquisitor or his Acolytes. However should they discover them, our chapter's greatest heresy will doom us, dishonor our parent chapters, and possibly lead to their destruction." Cautioned Armellus as they visually inspected each and every artifact. They passed by two hundred and sixty-seven alcoves, each one holding the drawn and quartered remains of heretics of the gravest nature. Their armor tainted forever, their flesh long consumed by decay, their spirits still writhing in the warp, yet with no trace of their flesh and blood bodies, they were doomed to agonizingly wandering through the miasma until they could poses a living person. The armor of these space marines was worn by those who committed the ultimate heresy against the Emperor. Traitors to everything they had once stood for. Fathers to a chapter they now endangered with their very existence. Founders who turned from the Emperor's light.

* * *

Janeway watched the display on her screen with the other admirals as the Defiant cloaked and then jumped out of the system. She turned to the other admirals, none of whom relaxed in the slightest with the Tech-Priest's departure.

"We have to divert all available resources to the Batuere program." Said Sonath as he shifted his weight, obviously threatened by Theoxus and what he represented. Sonath was an Andorian, he was aggressive and when he felt cornered or threated, he always attacked with overwhelming and devious force when he believed he was threatened. His feeling of being threatened was not surprising. What was surprising was Esar's reaction.

"I agree, however I suggest we divert resources from peacetime projects and shift into a wartime setting, we may even consider recalling the fleets and begin reforming and refitting for combat." Recommended Esar. This almost stunned Janeway, for a Vulcan to recommend such a rapid transition into war and not even attempt peaceful negotiations was almost unheard of.

"Not that I don't agree with you, but what are your reasons?" Asked Kazuki as he turned to her and raised his eyebrow.

"Did you notice how he never addressed Sonath or I as we met with him save his initial greeting? The questions posed by Sonath and I were answered, but to you. When we consider T'Mik's reports and audio and visual recordings, he may be representative of his entire culture with their extreme xenophobia. If we assume that his intelligence on the enemies of this 'Imperium of Man' are accurate. I believe that they will react to our federation violently. Then there's the fact that the title of this government seems to represent their exclusion of alien races. I believe that this could be one of the greatest threats we've ever seen." She elaborated.

The rest of the admirals nodded their grim agreement.

"I'll brief T'Mik on the Batuere program, I suggest we assign her to command the Hydra, and dispatch her to join Picard's fleet." Offered Janeway as she began to walk towards the exit.

"Are you sure she's the best choice for the Hydra? She has no real combat experience save one deployment during the final days of the Dominion war. Would assigning her to an extremely experimental warship be wise?" Asked Sonath.

"I believe so, even with her ship crippled she managed to bring her ship into combat should the Mechanicus ship have been hostile, and even managed to fight in the brief engagement with the Romulans before they passed through the gateway. I believe she shows promise as a tactical commander." Elaborated Janeway.

"Agreed." Contributed Esar in the typical emotionless Vulcan tone. "Recall the fleets and begin preparations for war."

"I'll get T'Mik up to speed on her new command." Answered Janeway as she briskly left the room. _We will not see the Federation caught flat footed when the Imperium invades._

* * *

Sisko sat in his Captain's chair in the center of the Defiant's bridge. In front of him the Tech-Priest busied himself with final preparations of the so called Vox Caster. When Sisko had asked him about what he was doing he had been given no explanation save one word "Prayer." Just as Sisko had thought that he had finished, he was caught by surprise when the Tech-Priest lit incense and began to ritualistically apply oils to the Vox.

"The soul of the Machine God surrounds thee. The power of the Machine God invests thee. The hate of the Machine God drives thee. The Machine God endows thee with life. Live!" Chanted Theoxus as he applied the oils and wafted the incense around the Vox. His mechanical and modulating voice sending visible chills down the spines of all bridge officers.

"Holy oils for the cogs of the machine, turn forever as is the will of the Omnissiah." He prayed as he gently applied the oils to the machine as if baptizing a newborn child.

"May your gears be guarded against malfunction, as your soul is from impurity. The Machine God watches over you. Unleash the weapons of war. Unleash the wrath of the Omnissiah." He continued as he finished applying the oils and wafting the incense, setting both aside. He knelt in front of the Vox, now connected to and sitting in front of the Conn. Station. As he knelt and he held both his arms out from him, mechanical palms facing towards the ceiling.

"Toll the Great Bell once!" He cried out, startling Sisko slightly.

"Pull the lever forward to engage the piston and pump." He spoke in a much softer voice as he reached out and pulled a small lever about six inches in length attached to the side of the Vox.

"Toll the Great Bell twice!" He cried out again as he extended his arms as he had before.

"Push the sacred button, fire the engine and spark the turbine into life." He softly prayed as he leaned in and pressed a single button.

"Sing praise to the God of all Machines!" He shouted as he stood, and held the incense in front of him in offering to the Machine god. Suddenly the Vox sputtered, and hummed to life, Theoxus' tentacles twitched with apparent pleasure at his success. He dowsed the incense, collected the oils and began to leave the bridge.

"Mr. Theoxus, how-" Sisko began to ask before he was interrupted.

"Adept." Theoxus said in a single mechanical word.

"Adept" Corrected Sisko "How will this Vox Caster allow us to communicate with Imperial forces?"

"When we encounter Imperial ships, they may signal us to present clearance codes. You will not speak. I will identify that we are on a secret mission on behalf of the High Lords and that they do not have the proper clearance. Pray that they do not have an Inquisitor onboard." He explained emotionlessly.

"What is an Inquisitor? And what happens if they do have one on board?" Asked Sisko, worried that this Imperium's Inguisitors would bear resemblance to ancient Earth's Spanish Inquisition.

"The Holy Order of the Emperor's Inquisition is above all in power save the Holy Emperor himself. None may dare oppose an Inquisitor lest they be executed. They are shrouded in mystery and secret. The most important thing to remember about the Inquisition Captain, is that innocence proves nothing."

"Captain," Spoke Ezri Dax "We are approaching the Gateway, no sign of Ork ships save debris."

" Take us through." Ordered Sisko.

"Captain Sisko, this ship has the ability to become invisible to hostile sensoriums?" Asked the Tech-Priest in a tone that Sisko could swear was almost surprise. _Good, if the Imperium can't use cloaking devices we may yet have the advantage, provided we can get the Klingons and Romulans on our side._

* * *

Chancellor Martok sat in the command chair on the bridge of the Rotarran. By far his favorite ship he had served on, the crew of the Rotarran had served with him when he'd broken the curse and had fought with him through the war.

"Tactical on viewer." He ordered and was immediately answered by the viewer showing a display of the planet with the Ork fleet in orbit, far more ships than he could count, let alone had expected.

"How many Ork ships?" He asked as he tried to decide how to deploy his thirty warbirds and nine cruisers.

"Current count is two-hundred and thirty-seven." Called his tactical officer from his station.

"What is the status of our fleet?" Asked Martok as he considered his options.

"All ships are cloaked and holding position in attack formation, we've transported the four-hundred survivors of the three-thousand strong colony onboard our ships. The fleet is awaiting your orders, sir." Answered Ops.

"Order the first and second attack wings to begin attack runs, maintain cloak unless they're going to fire. When will the fleet be here?" He asked as he watched the view screen transition from a tactical display to a view of the Ork fleet. Birds of Prey materialized, launching volleys of torpedoes and disruptor blasts before cloaking again whilst weaving throughout the enemy ships. The Ork ships were slow to react, but did so with overwhelming force. Hundreds of projectiles of various caliber, ranging from inches across to over a dozen meters filled the surrounding space. The Ork's shielding absorbed everything the attack wings threw at them, rippling with blue and white energy as the ordinance vanished on impact.

"The fleet is another seven hours away at maximum warp." Reported Martok's Helmsman.

Suddenly the ship shook violently, sparks and debris erupted from the ceiling. Beams fell on Martok as he threw up his arms to cover his head, he felt steel crash down on his fore arms. Grunting with the force of the Impact Martok threw off the debris and stood in anger.

"Report!" He shouted as he turned from the display to survey the damage to his ship.

"The Orks are attempting to route us by firing where ever there isn't an Ork ship." Reported tactical.

"Back the fleet off until the fire dies down, then, we will strike again!" Shouted Martok as he cleared the distance between his debris covered chair to the con station in five powerful strides to punch in commands. The bridge officers exchanged glances, Martok had not been this cautious since he had returned from the Dominion camp. Martok could feel their glances as if he himself made them.

"We must hold the Ork fleet here until our reinforcements arrive, then we will send the scattered debris of their fleet burning through the atmosphere." He explained, not to inform them of his plan, but to discourage any doubts about his metal.

"Chancellor, numerous spatial distortions are forming. Dozens, now over one hundred." Reported Martok's helmsman.

"On screen!" Martok ordered as he stood by his chair. He watched disks of roiling energy coalesce, grown and eventually form a pattern similar to a hurricane before ships came through the distortions. All of them Ork judging by their markings and construction.

"How many?" Asked Martock.

"One-Hundred and ninety-seven additional Ork ships. Total now four-hundred and thirty-four Ork ships in system."

 _Our fleet cannot hope to fight off a fleet of that size._

* * *

"Boss! Da bumpy-'eads is attackin ya ships! They's invisible though!" shouted a snotling over the orks shouting as bombs fell on them from enemies they couldn't see.

"Bahg! They's a clever bunch 'o bumpy-eads. I likes me a fight with thems. Are der anymoah planets of bumpy-heads?" Asked Skull-Basha as he knocked over a building's wall looking for loot.

"Yeah der is Boss! Der's two not far from 'ere!" Reported the Snotling gleefully.

"Send ma bois!" Bellowed Skull Basha.

* * *

"Sir! Ork ships are breaking away!" Shouted Tactical.

"Elaborate!" Martok shouted in anger.

"They're forming three groups. Two are moving away from the planet, the other is staying. The largest ork ship is in the group remaining." Reported Tactical as he tracked the hundreds of blips indicating hostile ships. "More distortions forming! It appears that the two groups are leaving the system."

"Inform the Counsel, we will deal with those groups later." Spoke Martok.

* * *

T'Mik sat in the copilot seat of the type nine shuttle craft as it broke Earth Orbit. Admiral Janeway had insisted on piloting the shuttle craft, stating that she refused to let T'Mik chauffeur her around. _Curious how she insists on doing it herself. Although not totally surprising given the human attitude towards self-reliance._ Janeway punched in a series of commands and the warp engines kicked in for a brief time until they dropped out of warp in orbit over Mars. Janeway maneuvered the shuttle into a polar orbit and then set the controls to autopilot.

"You haven't been briefed on this before, but Starfleet has been secretly working on a combat refit for our vessels for some time." Janeway began. "Starfleets mission has always been that of peace, but given the Borg threat, our near war with the Klingon Empire, our war with the Cardassians, our war with the Dominion, Starfleet Command has determined that we need a new class of combat vessel, other than the Defiant, Prometheus and Akkira class. But we don't feel we have the time to design and test an entirely new vessel, so we've extensively refit our most abundant ship class."

"The Excelsior Class." Interjected T'Mik and was met with a confirming nod.

"The Excelsior class as you know it is eventually going to be refit into a new Heavy Escort Class. We plan on using them in larger engagements to meet an anti-small craft, and a limited anti-capital ship role. Similar to the Battle Cruisers of the ocean bound navies of Earth's history." Continued Janeway.

"If I recall correctly, the naval battle cruisers mounted battleship grade weapons on a slightly reinforced cruiser hull." Spoke T'mik seeking confirmation for her theory that Starfleet had built a warship out of the Excelsior class.

"Correct" Confirmed Janeway as her panel beeped a notice. Janeway turned her attention to the panel and executed a series of turns until a dry dock came into view of the shuttles windows from the left. Inside the dry dock was an Excelsior class ship, construction shuttles darted amongst the extended arms of the dry dock. Showers of sparks tumbled from numerous places on her hull, caught in Mars' gravity well and pulled towards the planet.

"This is the U.S.S Hydra. She is the first of the heavy escort classification of ships and is the first of the Batuere Class. She is a standard Excelsior from the outside but she is extensively modified." Began Janeway. T'Mik couldn't disagree more, the Hydra had larger nacelles than a standard Excelsior, as well as a larger neck joining the primary and secondary hull. The entirety of the hull was consumed with either phaser emitters or armored hatches.

"The armored hatches you see house the pulse cannon point defense system. They fire phaser pulses at an extremely rapid rate, compensating for their relatively weak individual damage capability by overwhelming the target with their rate of fire. Now they are stored inside those armored hatches, but when deployed they can track over eighty incoming targets varying from small ships and shuttles to probes and photon torpedoes. The primary phaser array has been completely replaced with the latest in Starfleet phaser technology. The ship carries a compliment of photon and quantum torpedoes. It also has primary, secondary, and tertiary shielding making this ship one tough bruiser." Elaborated Janeway as they approached the shuttle bay.

T'Mik was almost appalled. This ship was a disgusting testament to war, it clearly had no other purpose. Yet she couldn't help but marvel at the engineering feats achieved here if Janeway wasn't exaggerating.

"Was this ship designed to fight the Borg?" Asked T'Mik.

"Yes, in fact it was based on one of the then Commander Shelby's recommended refits to Starfleets fleet. Her goal was to enhance our defensive capabilities without requiring us to build a new fleet to do so. Unfortunately this plan was tabled until two years ago when I got my hands on it." Informed Janeway as she tapped in a series of commands and the shuttle settled on the floor of the shuttle bay. "Come, I want to show you the most revolutionary feature of this ship."

* * *

Nurek screamed in agony he felt his skin melt, his nerves burned, his eyes bulged and his brain boiled. Nothing else was discernable. There was only the pain. The pain shifted suddenly, instead of what he had felt before he suddenly felt as if he was being skinned alive, his heart felt as if it would burst and if he hadn't been restrained Nurek would have gouged out his own eyes they burned so badly. _THE PAIN! THERE IS ONLY THE PAIN!_

He opened his eyes and the stone room he was in was gone. The torches and demented borg-like cyber-human hybrids were gone. The chanting was gone. The mysterious figure with the large steel hood was gone. They were all replaced by a single grassy hill that extended upwards in front of him. Nurek could barely hear a faint giggle. He squinted his eyes, held up his hands to afford himself a better view from sun's glare.

On top of the hill was his wife Samina and their four year old son, Honsi. They were playing together, Samina chasing Honsi in circles while Honsi screamed in delight. Their laughter filled his ears like warm Romulan honey. They noticed him and waved.

"Come on, Daddy!" Called Honsi. Nurek began to walk up the hill, only some seventy meters separated them from him.

"Come on honey!" Called Samina as she waved for him to join them. Nurek broke into a quick jog as he closed the distance.

He closed to five meters and slowed to a walk as Honsi ran to him.

Suddenly a shape rose up behind Samina, causing Nurek to stop in his tracks. He stared at it, unable to move, as it came into focus. The thing was beastly, its face snarling. It stood 4 meters tall and was completely red. It was a madman's conception of a myriad of animals combined in humanoid form, the legs of a goat, skin of a reptile, mouth of a leach, horns larger than its elongated head, it wielded a massive sword that roiled with flaming energy. It opened its mouth and loosed a bellow that made Nurek's ears bleed. With one hand clasped around his left ear, he motioned for Samina to run while shouting at the top of his lungs for her to follow him.

"Samina! Run to me!" He shouted, but all Samina did was smile and wait for Nurek to reach her, completely unaware of the terror behind her. Honsi noticed and cried out in terror. Honsi sprinted as fast as his little legs could carry him and Nurek ran to try to meet him, but he couldn't move his legs. The beastly creature lifted its monstrous sword and drove it into Samina's back where it broke through her chest. Her smile vanished and was replaced with a look of shock for a brief moment before she looked down and saw that the flaming energy from the sword was spreading across her body and enveloping her.

Samina screamed as the flames danced across her skin, charring every inch of her. She screamed as her flesh dissolved. Her skin, muscles, and organs dissolving into a green slush that spilled from her chared skin until all that was left was her bones. Yet her eyes remained, they gazed silently into Nurek's, piercing his soul, until the skeletons mouth opened and he heard Samina scream again, only it was her skeleton screaming, the same shrill scream of agony. As Samina's skeleton screamed it began to vaporizing into a white powder. When the powdering reached her skull her eyes rolled up and boiled away from her evaporating skull.

"Daddy!" Screamed Honsi in terror as he watched his mother's death. Suddenly Nurek realized he was running. He began to sprint towards his son as Honsi curled into a ball, terrorized beyond his ability to handle it, torturing him into inaction. Nurek ran, but the closer he got, the farther away he was. The red horned monster walked towards Honsi, it reached out and swung with its toothed sword, it cleaved Honsi in two. Nurek screamed as he watched his beloved son severed in two, but just as the blade came in contact with little Honsi's skin, time slowed. Nurek wanted to look away but he watched as his son shrieked in agony as his body vaporized in a slow cascade as the blade passed through him. But as his body evaporated, Honsi's face warped and merged with the blade where it joined what Nurek discovered to be Samina's face, warped in immortal agony as they both screamed for eternity.

Nurek staggered, lost his balance and fell. As he fell he realized that he was no longer on the grassy hill, but a mountain of skulls, all weeping green blood. The red monster stood atop the mountain while Nurek clawed at the weeping skulls as he fell. The monster bellowed and the skulls opened their mouths and blood spurted by the hundreds of thousands of liters threatening to drown Nurek.

"Nooooo!" He screamed as the blood flooded over his head and he sank beneath its steaming waves.

* * *

"This zenos was relatively easy to extract information from, we are allowing his body to rest while Librarian Hephistus uses his psychic abilities to torture his mind. We will extract the location of his homeworld in the other realm and report to you immediately upon its discovery. " Reported Captain Ovidious.

"Define 'relatively easy.'" Ordered Valerius.

"He gave up the location of his own homeworld, however we've ascertained that his family moved him to his species' homeworld shortly after birth. Some zenos infested planet called Romulus. It's the capital planet of what his people call the "Romulan Star Empire." He's been remarkably resistant to giving up its location. Especially for a zenos." Elaborated Ovidious as he stared at the zenos' convulsing form bound to the interrogation table.

"Prep him for transport, then move him to 'Spartacus the Ultimate.' I want him onboard before the parades start. You will be on the muster field on time." Ordered Valerius shortly. _So the zenos scum isn't breaking yet? That's to be expected with an unknown race. In the meantime we'll burn his worlds to ashes around him._

* * *

Adept Theoxus stood on the bridge of the Defiant as it maneuvered through the wreckage of Watch Station WS-US-1739. Sisko was sitting in his chair watching as thousands of fragments of plating and servitors were redirected from the Defiant's path, by what Theoxus had been told was a 'Deflector Dish.' Sisko turned in his chair to face him.

"You have my condolences on the loss of life here, Adept." Sisko spoke in an attempt to play on Theoxus' emotions.

"The only loss here is the loss of the station. Men can be replaced. Technology is sacred." He spoke absolutely.

"How can you say that? Our sensors are picking up thousands of bodies." Asked Sisko, hiding his disgust well.

"The Tech-Priest compliment was fourteen, the rest were seven thousand servitors. If anything we lost a watch station and fourteen priests." Theoxus conceded. _All of that technology, lost._

"But what about the seven thousand man crew?" Sisko's volume increased as he asked this question. _He is too concerned with the triviality of lives, and should be focused on preserving their technology, as inferior as it is in most regards._

"Those were not men. They were servitors. They are lower than slaves. They are lobotomized criminals, and vat-grown humans who's only existence is to serve, and die for the Emperor. Only in death are they released from their duties, and that is if they aren't turned into a servo skull so they may serve even in death. Their deaths mean nothing to the Imperium. Absolutely nothing!" Theoxus all but shouted at Sisko as he stepped forward. Sisko didn't back down, but he didn't say anything more of it.

"Captain, we've located the Discretion. Our sensors give us a reading of bearing three-five-two mark eighteen. Distance eleven lightyears. They're" Paused Dax as she examined her display. "It appears that they're stationary, and at warp speed at the same time."

Sisko began to ask for confirmation but he was immediately cut off by Theoxus.

"Captain Sisko, Did she say Warp?" He asked, his voice fast. Curious to see what Sisko associated with Warp speed, Sisko answered.

"Our ships travel faster than light by traveling at Warp." Explained Sisko. "Allow me to demonstrate. Dax, set a course to the Discretion's coordinates and engage at warp six."

The Defiant's engines jumped in power and almost immediately Theoxus could tell something was wrong. He couldn't tell what was happening, but something, everything, yet nothing was wrong. The very room began to feel, different. The woman identified as Dax began to breathe heavily, and Theoxus noted a marked increase in the vital signs of all bridge personnel. Suddenly he heard a faint whisper, everything made sense.

"Captain! Drop out of warp immediately!" Theoxus shouted.

Sisko turned in his chair, outwardly unafflicted, but his vital signs betrayed him. "What's happening, Adept?"

"Stop the ship immediately or prepare to die horrible deaths you couldn't possibly imagine!" Theoxus bellowed once more.

"Dax, bring us out of warp and to a full stop." Ordered Sisko, but Dax didn't acknowledge. Theoxus watched her struggle and blankly stare at the panel. Without waiting for her to show any further signs he sprang forth and clubbed Dax in the side of the head, knocking her down with a muffled cry and thump as her frail body collapsed on the floor.

"Adept! What are you doing?" Shouted Sisko, but Theoxus didn't answer. He scanned the entire conn at once and located the command functions to halt the ship. Tapping a series of commands on the console as gently as he could as to not crack the screen and render it inoperable. He was unsuccessful yet the screen continued to function despite the cracks. The ship jerked forward as they dropped out of warp and came to a stop so fast that the inertial dampers couldn't fully compensate. The atmospheric distortions dissipated and the ship returned to normal.

"Adept!" Shouted Sisko again "What are you doing?"

"There was no time to explain, you must have your armsmen search the ship's every crevice. This ship's warp drive somehow partially breached the immaterium. I assume the designers were either incompetent or ignorant of the Warp as there seems to be no Gellar fields on this ship. If we had stayed at warp there would have been deamonic incursions across the ship and your weak and small crew would have been consumed mind, body, and soul. You cannot travel at warp speed here." Explained Theoxus as frustration seeped through his servo-circuits.

"Adept Theoxus, please come into my office." Spoke Sisko as he stood and walked towards one of the many bland doors. Theoxus felt his mechandendrites quivering with anger at this child's ignorance of the perils of the warp, but he followed him to set him straight. The door closed behind Theoxus as Sisko sat in his chair inside a cramped office. He poised himself, looked up at Theoxus and cocked an eyebrow. Theoxus didn't even wait for Sisko to speak.

"Captain Sisko, you must lack information on the Immaterium and the Dark Forces of Chaos if this is how you react to barely escaping an incursion." Theoxus began before Sisko held up his hand. Theoxus was tempted to reach out and break it off with a mechandendrite, but stopped himself in the interest of technology.

"Slow down." Spoke Sisko, unnaturally calm "Explain the Warp, what is the Immaterium? What are the Dark Forces of Chaos?"

Theoxus had to pause and adjust his chemreceptor and transmitter levels to prevent himself from going into a rage. It had been far too long since he'd brought the Emperor's wrath upon his enemies. Taking a deep breath via his Aug-lungs Theoxus explained.

"The Immaterium and the Warp are one and the same. The term 'Warp' is simply its more common name. It is an alternate dimension that is composed of pure psychic energy and is a reflection of the sentient races of the galaxy, human and zenos alike. The warp allows mankind to travel between our far flung worlds and expand our borders to the very edges of the galaxy. Conventional space travel would take millennia to reach their destination and there's no guarantee that they would return at all. So our ships instead tear holes between real space and the Immaterium. They navigate the warp's currents and eddies and can reach their destinations in days or weeks instead of many thousands of years." Theoxus explained.

"So why is it so dangerous that it caused" Sisko waved his hand in the air "whatever just happened?"

"The warp is a dangerous, and corrupting influence, it consumes, corrupts, and destroys. The incomprehensible miasma of pure psychic energy is home to countless deamons. If a ship is not properly prepared for warp travel, the warp will totally consume it and its inhabitants. Captain, you cannot possibly begin to hope to understand the utter and incomprehensible horror that awaits the souls of those who are exposed to the warp unprotected. You might as well cut a man's body all over and then throw him into a pool of ravenous sharks, at least then he would stand a better chance of surviving, than exposure to the warp unprotected. Due to its corrupting nature, only the strongest of faith may study the warp, and even then, many researchers have fallen to the Warp's temptations and heresy." Theoxus further elaborated.

"So what is Chaos, and what does it have to do with the warp? Is Chaos the same as those dark gods you mentioned to the Admirals back on Earth?" Asked Sisko.

"Yes, the Dark Forces of Chaos are the legions deamonic minions that answer to the four gods of chaos, Khorne, Nurgle, Tzeentch, and Slaanesh. They are the masters of their realms and work unceasingly to bring utter destruction to the material universe. They are the arch enemies of all sentient races." Theoxus concluded.

"So, forgive my ignorance, but why doesn't the Imperium extend a truce with the other races to combat Chaos?" Asked Sisko.

Theoxus couldn't contain himself. His augmented holster sprang out from under his robes. "That is Heresy!" He shouted as he drew his bolt pistol. "I warn you Captain Sisko. Do not speak such Heresies again, far greater men than you have been put to death for less."

"Dax to Sisko" Called Dax through the com.

"Go ahead." Answered Sisko.

"We've analyzed our data on our last warp jump and believe that we can achieve Warp two without further events as we saw." Reported Dax.

Sisko looked up from his chair at Theoxus, perhaps thinking that his ocular implants would give something away. _Not today child._

"Stand by." He spoke and stood. Theoxus allowed him to pass him and lead the way back to the door.

"Waiting on your order, sir." Reported Dax as Sisko sat in his chair and Theoxus took up a position diagonally behind his station.

"Engage."

* * *

T'Mik was walking the somewhat familiar corridors of the Excelsior class refit closely behind Admiral Janeway. Janeway had lead her through the shuttle bay that boasted ten fighter-shuttles and two assault-shuttles. Every ten meters there were small arms lockers, emergency bulkheads augmented every emergency force field. Janeway took her to the crew quarters, the rooms were the same in size, but there were at least two sets of bunks. The bunks were three births high and six crewmen were assigned per room. The officer's quarters weren't much better. Three officers were bunked in each room with only the captain and first officer getting private rooms, with greatly reduced space available to them. The rooms were spartan in the extreme, this didn't bother T'mik personally but she felt it could affect her crew as a whole.

"And this," continued Janeway as she tapped a button and a large set of double doors swooshed open "is main engineering."

The room was massive. The area in front of the warp core was large. Almost twenty meters long by ten meters wide. It also bustled with crewmen and engineers. However, there was at least three times the needed crew, and when T'Mik observed further she realized that there were four command stations. This puzzled her.

"I bet you've noticed the extra crew and command stations." Began Janeway once more, noticing T'Mik's darting eyes. "Follow me."

They set off walking down the large area and T'Mik observed the consoles as she passed. 'Master' read one. The second read 'Alpha,' followed by 'Beta' and 'Gamma.' _Redundant control systems?_ Postulated T'Mik, but she had her answer as soon as she entered the cores area.

The warp core's area was even larger than the main command area, but as they walked around the perimeter she saw why.

One. Two. Three warp cores.

She immediately turned to Janeway and raised her eyebrows.

"The Hydra is equipped with three warp cores. Needless to say, the weapons systems and shields place a considerable if not overwhelming strain on a single warp engine on top of standard operating. So we've resolved this by utilizing three cores. Alpha core is run just like a standard core on any other starship. Its energy output is routed to ships systems, warp drive and so on. However, Beta Core's power output is routed to the shielding systems alone. When not in use Beta Core is run at what we call idle, meaning that it is only run at enough power to maintain a stable enough reaction rate to be able to jump the core up to one hundred percent power output on a moment's notice. Gamma Core's energy is routed to the weapons systems. The strain is considerable due to the enhanced phaser arrays and the point defense system. In fact, the enormous power demands were the primary reason for our considering additional warp cores. Gamma Core is operated just like Beta Core, it is run at idle until the weapons are needed."

T'Mik observed that there was what looked like scaffolding around the three cores, there was even an engineer repelling from one of them to reach a point of the core she wouldn't have been able to otherwise.

"The scaffolding you see is our answer to the challenges of maintaining three warp cores in the same room. Your engineers are able to, with the assistance of repelling, maintain all three cores without issue." Continued Janeway.

"What about core ejection?" Asked T'Mik, hoping that she wouldn't have to choose between ejecting all or none.

"The core ejection sequence is unique in that you can eject any single or combination of cores as they are jettisoned individually. When a core is ejected, emergency force fields activate during the ejection sequence and then the ejection doors close, affording your staff more workspace. Should the ejection doors jam open, emergency bulkhead doors in triple redundancy activate and seal Engineering."

T'Mik was astounded at the engineering audacity.

"Let's go see the bridge." Recommended Janeway as she walked towards one of the four turbolift doors in Main Engineering.

* * *

Spartacus-Ultimate Gaius Valerius stood on the muster ground. Next to him stood Master-Technis Alexi Shmidus on his right, Charge-Appothecarion Jeremiah Arcanis on Shidus' right. On Arcanis' right stood Lord-Chaplain Gabriel Ulysses. To Valeris' left stood Librarius-Ultimate Cassius Armellus. Behind them stood the Chapter Banner Guard. They bore the banners of the Chapter, as well as the Premarian Core, the First Holy Maniple, and the First Grand Company. Behind them, in ranks one squad of ten wide by twenty five squads deep stood the first section First Grand Company. And so alternating between Company Banner Guards and Grand Companies with Dreadnoughts standing behind their respective companies save one who still slumbered onboard "Spartacus the Ultimate." Every Spartan carried the Power-Halberd they forged during the Quest of Hatred, and their Storm Shields forged during the Quest of Disgust. Both being quests all neophytes must conquer in their endeavors to become a Spartan.

"Chapter formed and ready, my Lord." Reported Sargent Mika Caine.

Valerius opened a chapter wide com channel via his neural implants.

"Spartans, forward, March." He commanded and all fourteen-thousand of his brothers took their first step with him. A single drum beat echoed across the entire parade ground with their steps. His Spartans didn't rely on it for a cadence, but instead the drum helped to supply additional gravitas to the millions of Imperial citizens observing the parade ground directly, and the billions of citizens watching via vox-cast. The marched for two standard minutes before Valerius and his immediate brothers passed in front of the sector commands observation area. Valerius didn't salute, no Spartan ever had. Instead as he passed he and his immediate brothers pounded their left armored gauntlets on their breast plates as a sign of solidarity and conviction to carry out the crusade that spurred the raising of Grand Battle Group Fidelis. As the First Grand Company passed, they moved as one and hit their power-halberds against their storm shields once for the same purpose. This action was repeated by the second Grand Company and would be repeated an additional twenty-six times until all Spartans had passed in review. The Parade route took them along the path that River Blood had from the Monolith during the Raid of the Blasphemers, only in reverse. From the muster ground inside Hive Sparta to the Monolith itself. This was the only time civilians turned out in the millions in the hopes of seeing the greatest of their sectors defenders. From the Monolith, they would launch to their Grand Battle Fleet waiting in low orbit. Hundreds of Spartan ships hung low in the sky, blotting out the sun in some instances. This back drop was meant to be a prominent reminder to those loyal that their defenders were real and carrying out the will of the Emperor. It was also meant to serve as a word of caution to the unsavory at just how powerful the Spartans were and how they could utterly crush almost any force with little to no difficulty.

* * *

"Two minutes to intercept." Reported Dax as they closed on the Discretion.

"Drop out of warp and approach." Ordered Sisko. Sisko could swear he felt Theoxus shift his weight through the floor plates but he dismissed it. He couldn't blame the Tech-Priest, the recording he heard had been disturbing and dread welled up inside him. He cursed the accuracy of this particular cliché, but Sisko had a very bad feeling about this.

The Defiant dropped out of low warp and the stars on the view screen ceased their flying by and instead took up their positions in the celestial landscape.

"The Discretion's distress call is located bearing zero-one-zero mark three-five-nine. Distance two thousand kilometers." Reported O'Brian.

"Do we have the Discretion's cloaking frequency?" asked Sisko before giving the order to approach.

"Yes, sir. Adjusting our sensors now, we should be able to see it" O'Brian's voice trailed off for a brief moment as he tapped some quick commands into his console, "Now."

The Discretion appeared as a wire mesh overlaid on top of a blurry image of a ship whose lines Sisko didn't recognize, nor did he believe he ever would.

"Captain, I recommend you use extreme caution. If they didn't know about the Immaterium and how your ships interact with it, there is a strong chance they could have suffered an incursion." Warned Theoxus.

"Hail them." Ordered Sisko as he turned to Theoxus. "I trust you were shown the recording of the Discretion's last transmission?"

"No, obviously your Admirals don't trust me, a wise precaution when dealing with an unknown entity, yet it will hinder our efforts now. What did it show?" Answered Theoxus, obviously annoyed, shown by his machine tentacles tensing.

"The only transmission sent by the Discretion before its automated distress signal began was her captain calling for help before a woman could be heard laughing and the channel cut out." He informed Theoxus. Suddenly Theoxus moved to action, he took three thunderous steps forward, his pistol weapon appearing from underneath his robes by his side. He reached down and took it in his right arm and spoke.

"Captain Sisko, you must destroy that ship immediately. There are deamons on board." Hissed Theoxus as he charged his bolt pistol while facing the display screen.

"Adapt, there are over one hundred men and women onboard that vessel." Began Sisko.

"And they are all lost. In the scale of the universe, their lives mean nothing." Interjected Theoxus.

"How can you say that?" Asked Dax, turning in her chair to face him, incredulity on her face.

"Only those who do not understand ask how we have the right to destroy thousands, millions, even billions in the blink of an eye. Those that understand this responsibility know that we have no right to allow them to live." Retorted Theoxus.

"You can't seriously be saying that it is your responsibility and duty to kill innocent people!" Kira loudly accused the tech-priest.

"You children have no understanding of the greater galaxy. In the scale of the universe, one hundred lives means nothing. In the scale of the universe, one hundred thousand lives means nothing. In the scale of the universe, one hundred million lives mean nothing. In the scale of the universe, one hundred billion lives means nothing!" Theoxus countered, shouting at the end. His voice reverberating through the bridge, causing Sisko's teeth to rattle.

Dax and Kira were about to respond to that but Sisko shot them both a glance that could freeze fire.

"Adapt Theoxus, we are going to board the ship and recover what we can. Now, you are welcome to stay aboard the Defiant, but since you suspect there will be deamons, we would greatly appreciate your company." Asked Sisko, knowing that he was inviting an unpredictable and near uncontrollable element on a perilous mission.

"Very well, Captain. But be warned, you are traveling into the depths of the darkest of holes. Filled with horrors you cannot possibly imagine. You will suffer casualties. You will be tested as a whole and on a personal level. This 'away mission' will be bloody. I will not fail, for I have faced the forces of the Warp twenty six times. But you and your uninitiated crew are liable to lose your minds. If you or your crew jeopardizes our safety, I will not hesitate to kill you or them." Promised Theoxus grimly, making Sisko second guess the viability of this mission.

"Understood. But remember, we are not your enemy." Sisko reminded the Tech priest. "Away team, assemble in transporter room one. Adept Theoxus, if you'll follow me, we'll go to the transporter room together."

Sisko led the way to the Transporter room, with Theoxus' characteristic thudding footsteps behind him. The two of them followed by Dax, Kira, and six security officers handpicked by Starfleet Command for their special operations experience during the Cardassian War and later the Dominion War.

Reaching the transporter room a few moments later, Sisko and Theoxus stepped on the pad along with a young officer named Gabriel Johnson.

"Energize Chief."


	7. VII

" _When its legions march, they march to return upon us a ruin that is our own making."_

 _-Arenal, Eldar Farseer_

U.S.S Hydra-Hydra class Cruiser

Stardate 56908.4

In orbit over Mars, Utopia Planetia Shipyards

T'Mik followed Janeway onto the bridge of the Hydra. Construction crews still hurried this way and that, although they were finishing their work and cleaning the ship of their tools and debris left from the process. As she had been touring the ship T'Mik had noticed some of her crew boarding and being shown around the ship. As she came onto the bridge she noticed that Turner was there, his arm now healed. Her tactical officer stood in the center of a large console at the rear of the bridge, a crewman on either side of him, with an additional three shipyard personnel showing them around the consoles.

"This is the Bridge." Began Janeway. "As you see your first officer is in overall command of tactical. However he has three subordinate tactical officers that manage the offensive weapons, the shields, and the point defense systems respectively. It is Commander Turner's job to coordinate their efforts into seamless movement as a conductor of an orchestra turns random sounds into beauty."

T'Mik listened carefully as she continued, but her eyes swept across the bridge consoles. There was only a single small science station, all of the consoles were designated Tactical, ships systems, and a number of related subjects.

The bridge itself was almost ugly, yet oddly satisfying. It was an amalgamation of bridge concepts utilized by Starfleet built on top of a Lakota refit bridge. The helm and navigation stations had been moved forward a full meter, as well as the captain's chair. The twin console in the back had been moved forward and wrapped around the depression in the deck where the Captain, navigation, and helm sat. There were no chairs, instead the console was divided into three stations marked 'Master,' 'point defense,' and 'shields.' The science stations had been completely removed save one and there were now engineering stations, shuttle operations, and communications stations. Where stations now superfluous had once been were now lockers. On the left of the view screen was an arms locker, and on the right of the view screen was a medical station, filled with everything needed to treat wounded save the most sever surgeries.

"Oh, by the way" T'Mik's full attention snapped back to Janeway as she handed her a vest of sorts. "This is state of the art. It's a polycompound that I can't pronounce and you don't have the clearance to know. It refracts the energy of a phaser or disruptor by almost ninety two percent of the impact energy. The problem being that when it's hit it refracts the energy in a visual spectrum and illuminates the target. We don't plan on using it in ground operations, but we're issuing it to you and your crew for shipboard actions for extra protection."

This troubled T'Mik. "But Admiral, the weapons we've seen the Orks use are all projectile based, and even the Mechanicus ship's lasers were heavily augmented by missile batteries. Perhaps their technology is based more on projectiles than energy as well?"

"We suspect that to be the case" Responded Janeway with a nod "But we simply don't have anything that can protect an individual from the force of a projectile of those calibers. And we have no idea how to counter that saw-toothed sword that Q used on Lieutenant Commander Worf. Unfortunately, Captain, we're giving this to you under the principle of 'something is better than nothing.'"

 _Great_ , thought T'Mik sarcastically. "Admiral, just how dangerous do you believe this universe to be?"

"I can't tell you anything save that if that Tech-Priest is telling the truth, we are already at a severe disadvantage. Now, if you'll follow me, there's one more place I want to show you, the 'CIC.'"

T'Mik took the vest from Janeway. It was heavy, reminiscent of ancient plate armor used by her emotional ancestors. It was composed of black cloth and was covered by numerous shining plates of what looked like polished steel, running her finger over one of the plates she felt a honeycomb like pattern or flat mirror like surfaces. The technology involved escaped her, but she didn't need to know how it worked, only that it worked.

Athena's Wrath-Athena Pattern Overlord class Battlecruiser

5.709.987.M40

Sparta Tertius Chapter Fleetyards

Crusade Clock: C-168 standard hours

Captain Misaki Athena Lucretia strode onto the bridge of the 'Athena's Wrath.'

"Captain on deck!" Called Ship's Commissar Gregory Azta Sonovius. The entire bridge crew snapped to attention with the exception of the ships three helmsmen.

"Post," Captain Lucretia commanded and was immediately met with a return to the bustle of a Cruisers bridge. Lucretia walked around the bridge to every station as she did every time she entered the bridge in a non-emergent situation. Her battle kit made the typical noises, occasional muffled clanks of her horizontal shoulder pauldrons impacting her bronze painted cruirass. The heavy, yet light thud of her boots on the deck plate echoed in her mind as she asked for, and got status reports. Her crimson Cloak of Sparta billowed behind her as she strode in between stations.

"My Lady, Bombardment and Macrocannons are standing by for your orders." Answered the Master Gunnery Commander, or Master Guns as he was colloquially called.

The 'Athena's Wrath' was not a typical cruiser, she was a heavily retrofitted Overlord class Battle Cruiser. So heavily, in fact, that she was labeled as 'Athena Pattern' by the Local Mechanicum. She was the first of her pattern and was developed and still built in the Chapter Fleet Base that was carved into Sparta's third moon, Sparta Tertius. This made the "Athena's Wrath" very old, over four thousand standard years. The Lance batteries that donned the dorsal hull of a standard Overlord Cruiser were replaced by two, single barreled Bombardment cannons. Almost all other capital ship energy weapons had been replaced in a similar manner. The Spartans took this philosophy on all of their fleet ships. Carrying ballistic weapons meant that the ships could divert that much more energy to their engines and void shields. Beyond that, the prow of the Athena Pattern was crescent mooned, as opposed to the trend of other, relatively newer imperial vessels. The Design of the Athena Pattern was so successful, that the Spartan's forges had crafted numerous vessels by commission of the sector navy, they still preferred the Lance turrets, but they couldn't help but acknowledge the increased maneuverability and durability was tantalizing. Lucretia loved her ship, she loved the configuration, every aspect, every detail, every weld seam and bolt. Every part of her making her just that much faster and that much tougher. And as happens often in combat, regardless of its time, place or participants 'just that much more' often proved to be the difference between death and survival.

"Bring Genatoria one through three to full power and four through five to standby. Secure all access points and make ready for launch." She ordered as she climbed the great pulpit at the center of the large cathedral like space that held the associated posts of her ships bridge. From her pulpit she could see everything, all of the stations, the ships displays hung from the ceiling high above, and through the vast windows into the space beyond her ship, currently taken up by the vast sprawls of the shipyards of Sparta Tertius. Behind her sat her command throne. An immense bronze throne, monolithic in its size, but intricate in its details, sat a full five meters behind her. Above her were eight great balconies, utterly devoted to the lesser logistical functions of the ship, and so consumed by the bustle of their demands.

"Genatoria at ordered power levels." Reported a representative Tech-Priest through its vocal vox.

"Ship secured, my Lady." Called the Officer of the Conn, also colloquially called simply "Conn" whose name escaped her. A replacement, her former Conn had been rotated dirt-side to train aspirant conn officers in their duties of guiding the many kilometers long warships of the Spartan's Chapter Fleet. This man had reportedly graduated fourth in his class, and performed admirably during his training cruises with the Auxilla corps. Yet all of these feats meant nothing in her eyes until she observed his ability to Conn her beloved ship.

"Very Well" Lucretia acknowledged and then ordered "Clear all moorings, set course out of Sparta Tertius, speed at fifteen percent main thrust."

"Aye Ma'am." Answered Conn. "Clear moorings. Port thrusters thirty second bust, fifty percent power. Mains at fifteen percent." He further ordered as the three helmsmen worked their controls and muttered near silent prayers of solidarity between them and the machine spirits that inhabited the "Athena's Wrath" and her many internal workings.

After thirty seconds of the low buzz of usual ships chatter Conn spoke up again.

"Cut port thrusters. Starboard thrusters one hundred percent, ten second burst. X axis negative fifteen degrees. Adjust Z axis positive ten degrees." He further ordered as the Helmsmen made the appropriate corrections. Guiding the hulking five and three tenths kilometer long hull of the "Athena's Wrath" slowly and gracefully out of the hollowed out moon and into the perilous void.

After five minutes of further routine, yet skillful navigation, the sooty stern of "Athena's Wrath" cleared Sparta Tertius and the Spartan's Chapter Fleet came into view in its full glory. Four Hundred and sixteen ships ranging from the eleven massive Spartan-Pattern Battle Barques all the way down to the swarms of Aries-Pattern Cobra Destroyers. Their prows glistened and their superstructures sparkled with lights. Unfortunately the distance between herself and the various ships didn't do them justice. They were each works of art as much as machines of war in their purest form. Each ship had been lovingly designed, meticulously fitted, tested, and then built, every single component blessed with sacred oils and prayers. Every surface was engraved in litanies, reliefs and busts portraying battles and heroic figures. And statues stood guard from amongst the gun batteries and recesses of the ships standing watch between their precious ships and the void. The Spartan's Chapter serfs looked forward to serving the Chapter as part of the Fleet. And being assigned "void-side" was one of the best blessings a serf dreamed of despite the brutal working conditions.

"My Lady, we are clear of Sparta Tertius." Reported Conn as he turned to face her.

 _Never turn to face me, always keep your eyes on your charges and the void._ Lucretia had to swallow her words. He would learn soon enough from his more veteran compatriots. "Salts" as they were called. Misaki hadn't any solid basis as to where or when the term "Salty" had originated. She guessed that it was used to describe ancient sea-going navy men and women of experience. However she had no personal experience as all she had to go on were the texts she'd studied that claimed there were worlds with vast oceans of water saturated with salt. She had never seen an ocean or a sea and personally longed to change that. _Enough, your home is the void. Your manor is this great ship. Your duty is to serve with pride, honor, and distinction until a time when Saint Athena chooses to manifest herself within my body or I die otherwise._

"Very well." Misaki Athena Lucretia acknowledged. "Take us into low orbit of Sparta alongside 'Irreproachable Witness' in standard formation."

"Yes, My lady." Replied Conn as he turned back to his charges and began issuing orders to guide the hulking, yet graceful beast, that was the "Athena's Wrath" alongside the even larger Spartan Pattern Battle Barque.

"What are our orders, my Lady?" asked First Officer, Commander Zacharias Davian Othello.

"Ears!" Called out Misaki and was answered with a unanimous and resounding

"Open Ma'am!"

"Our orders are standard fleet detail during a Crusade. We are still attached to Battle Group Secundus and the fourth Holy Maniple on board Battle Barque 'Irreproachable Witness.' We are embarking as part of Grand Battle Group Fidelis on a great crusade to unite a realm without the Emperors light! There are reports of a fledgling human empire under siege by numerous xeno races. We will purge the xenos, and crush this fledgling 'Federation of planets' and bring them into the fold of the most holy Imperium of Man. Grand Battle Group Fidelis will jump to Hive-World Tsaba where we will rendezvous with five Tsaban Tanker regiments, eight Aztu Death-shrieker regiments, thirteen Voynan Red Legions, seven Acicula Hawk corps, twelve Nocturnum Night Howler Corps, two Necrum Reaper corps, as well as two Titan legions, escorted by four legions of Skitarii. They will tremble before the might of the Imperial Navy. They will crumble beneath the sledge hammer of the Imperial Guard. And they shall know the horror of opposing the Holiest of Holy God-Emperor of Mankind! They shall witness our Glory!" Misaki briefed.

"WITNESS!" Cried out her bridge crew as a crewman sounded the ships war-horn once.

Built into the prow of the ship underneath the massive armor plating. It was used to boost morale of her allied troops and crush the morale of her enemies. "Athena's Wrath" would be brought just low enough into the atmosphere of a planet they were assaulting and provide close fire support so as to allow sound to carry. While doing this the ship's war horn would blast a single low, ground shaking and mind numbingly loud note. In space however, the sound generated by the horn didn't travel beyond the ship herself, instead reverberating throughout her hull and causing the entire ship to quiver. Misaki could picture in her mind's eye the thousands of serfs stopping whatever they were doing to let loose war cries that no one but themselves would hear.

Unknown location

Unknown date

Unknown time

Elizabeth Schneider startled awake and sat up. She rubbed her eyes and then moved her hands to her temples where her fingers traced circular patterns two centimeters in diameter in an effort to sooth her headache. Schneider was barely aware of her surroundings, figuring she must be in sickbay. She dismissed movement she picked up in her peripheral vision as the actions of nurses as she focused down at the bed. She soon realized that sick bay doesn't have beds upholstered with rich brown and thick blankets. Nor were sickbay beds made out of wood.

"You are missing a glorious parade, my dear."

Schneider jumped. And took in her surroundings for the first time. Within moments she realized she was not on the Enterprise. She was in a singular large room, a bedroom, though she had been in conference rooms that sat thirty people that were smaller than this. The room was furnished with standard furniture in purpose, though they were all highly ornate. Intricate carvings adorned every surface of every piece of furniture from the writing desk with some sort of computer display on it, to the lounge chair positioned just inside a set of double French doors that led to a balcony of sorts. Upon a second quick scan of her eyes she realized that there were skulls and two headed eagles incorporated into almost every carving. Then, she noticed the man, and suddenly she realized that she was naked underneath the covers.

Schneider grabbed at the blanket and pulled it up to her chin with both arms, not caring where she was, only that she protect her decency. Another figure approached from her left and wordlessly extended a robe.

"Would my lady like to dress and observe the parade?" Asked a feminine voice. Schneider looked at the figure that had handed her the robe and saw that she was a girl of perhaps twenty-six years.

"My lady would like that very much. Please hurry though, the Third Grand Company is passing now." Called the same male voice from the man who had now moved to the balcony beyond the open double French doors.

Three more young girls appeared from a door that had until then appeared to have been part of the wall. They carried clothing, jewelry, a sword, dagger, some sort of pistol as well as several other pouches on a thick, black leather belt. Schneider was awkward as she stood naked before the servants, uncomfortably exposed so completely before no less than 4 strange women. However she drew comfort from their eyes and thoughts.

"Do not use your powers here, my dear. That is extremely dangerous." Echoed the same male voice in her mind. Schneider agreed thoughtlessly and stopped scanning these girls' minds.

She could still read some of their thoughts through their eyes and body language. Their eyes were disinterested in her body as they dressed her. Schneider's awkwardness didn't faze them and they dressed her as if she were a manikin, lifting her limbs, and adjusting her body as they put on her undergarments, first layer of clothing, then the second layer, and finally a dress that fell to just below her knees. Then they put on her boots and fixed intricately engraved metal plates to her legs that glistened with a silver shine. They put the same style of armor on her forearms and then put on the belt for her. One of the girls took the dagger, drew it across her own fingertip and Schneider saw the girls eyes glint with a flash of slight pain as the skin readily parted before the edge of the blade and a trickle of blood fell down her finger. With obvious skill from repetition the girl caught the droplet of blood in a white cloth and cleaned the blade before replacing it in its sheath. Another girl drew the sword and Schneider saw that the blade was not ordinary. It had electrodes on the blade and a large power pack on tip of the handle. The girl triggered the sword and smiled slightly as the blade became bathed in blue energy that moved like flames yet crackled like a small electrical storm. Deactivating the blade she returned it to its sheath as another girl drew the pistol. Schneider observed as the girl removed what appeared to be a power pack from inside the hand grip of the weapon. The girl looked for and found a green status light on the small pack, returned it to the pistol, attenuated a small lever on the side and nodded as the weapon emitted a soft yet high pitched wine as the weapon charged. The same girl who had checked the pistol now removed and inspected five more power packs before replacing them in their pouches on the belt.

Schneider, now fully dressed, her hair brushed out by another girl and done so it fell behind her naturally, walked towards the balcony. She felt awkward walking around with the weapons on her belt and very quickly learned that the best way to manage the sword was to put her hand on the pommel to keep it from dancing around her legs. As she approached the doors to the balcony a cadence of rhythmic thunder became audible as well as the low pitch of cheers that accompanied parades. She could also hear choirs singing. She could not understand the words being sung, but that it sounded as if angels themselves were singing.

When Schneider passed through the doors she was overwhelmed by the sheer scale of her surroundings. Elaborate buildings rose hundreds of meters above her. On her right the buildings continued to climb away from her as if she were on the side of a mountain. She recognized the architecture as Gothic from Earth's history. During her time at Starfleet academy she had all but fallen in love with the intricacy and artisan style of Gothic architecture. The many arches, reliefs and busts of figures and scenery. She so enjoyed it that she had toured Earth's remaining Cathedrals. She had taken holo-tours of once majestic buildings now reduced to rubble by age and war.

"Welcome to Hive-World Sparta." Said the same voice to Schneider's right. That was when she realized who it was.

"Q?" She asked incredulously.

"Inquisitor Q" Answered Q, Dressed in far more intricate, and even comically large armor. His body was covered in silver plates and iconography involving the letter 'I'. Behind him hovered four floating skulls with tentacles falling from their bases. One skull instead held a scroll that one of its small, almost delicate arms was constantly writing on with a feather. Q gestured to the railing of the Balcony.

"Take a look." He said. Not stepping forward himself but shifting his gaze from building to building around them, even looking up at the sky. Schneider did as he bade and looked over the white marble railing.

Beneath her was a road, wider than some starships. A single red line was visible beneath its occupants. But her attention barely noticed it once she looked at the parade itself.

Three columns of figures marched down the parade route. The two outer columns were what appeared to be normal humanoids. _No, humans._ She corrected herself. They all wore armor, chest plates and packs fused into one piece of armor, with armored shoulders, forearms and shins. They wore large curved shoulder plates. These columns were twenty wide, and hundreds deep. Every single one of them held tall poles with large slender pieces of cloth-like parchment that was covered in dozens and dozens of names scrawled on each surface. They marched in a single pace, a large drum echoing above the now considerably louder choirs. The center column was vastly different. Massive bronze clad figures towered over the men on either side. They were so large that their pace was drastically slower, but their steps were far larger. For every two steps the normal human soldiers took, the larger armored ones took one thunderous step. Schneider was astonished, and then she saw the hulking monsters that shook her teeth with every step they took and she was easily fifty meters above the route. The sheer scale and numbers of this combat force astonished her. Until seeing it before her now, she could never have imagined it.

"Impressive aren't they?" Spoke Q from behind her.

Schneider turned to face him and watch him suddenly stop scanning the buildings all around him and try to act normal.

"In a military sense I can see how they would be intimidating. Who are they?" Schneider asked as she walked towards him.

"Those are Space Marines. Humans only in name, they are trans-human super soldiers and religious zealots simultaneously. These particular marines belong to a chapter called the Spartans. I cannot bring your Captain here. He is far too stubborn and loud, but you are quiet and accepting enough that I could bring you here, and despite your dangerous abilities you wouldn't attract too much atten-" Q cut off as he grabbed her arm and frantically scanned their surroundings. Schneider observed his behavior but didn't speak.

"Attention." Q resumed with an uneasy smile. "Our beloved Capitan simply doesn't understand this well enough to keep quiet here. He does not, nor can he possibly understand just how dangerous and horrible life is in this universe."

"My dangerous abilities?" Probed Schneider.

"Welcome my dear, to an age where humanity has surpassed all but one surviving race in their psycho-kinetic and telepathic powers. Here they are called Psykers, and they are hunted down as witches before being enslaved or sacrificed if not killed outright." Answered Q with a smirk on his face.

"Excuse me?" Schneider demanded in a hushed tone as her stomach flipped.

"Every world that lives under this vast Imperium is scoured of those Psykers. Those that aren't burned out right are brought to Holy Terra in bondage where they are tested. If they pass they become sanctioned and are sent off to schooling to use their talents to feed the Imperium's war machine. Those that don't are sacrificed by the hundreds of thousands to the Emperor." Explained Q, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

"Enough, Q. What's this parade all about? Where are they going?" Asked Schneider quickly, not noticing that her voice had raised an octave and now wavered unsteadily.

"This is the only parade held by the Spartans and their Auxilla corps. It marks the declaration of what they call a Grand Battle Group. It also marks their embarking on a holy crusade." Answered Q.

"But where are they going?" Asked Schneider again.

Suddenly a figure flew past her head. Struggling to trace its path of flight, she finally laid eyes on a small figure flitting away on bird wings. She all but gave up hope of learning what it was before it turned around. Gracefully arching through the air, it came full circle until it was on a direct heading for her. As it drew closer Schneider could make out a vaguely human body. Bits of metal glinted in the hazy daylight, its pale flesh almost shone. When Schneider realized what it was she had to swallow a mouthful of bile she was so disgusted. It appeared to be a baby, riddled with augments and carried aloft by two feathered wings. As it drew closer she could discern the red glow of its left eye and saw that half of its skull had been replaced with metal, it wore no clothing save two scraps of paper covered in writing that served as a loin-cloth of sorts. Several waxen seals adorned its body and streamers of paper of various length fluttered from them. Minding that only a mere moment had passed she suddenly felt Q's hand on her and the last thing she remembered before reappearing in sickbay was seeing the face of the baby. Half of its head replaced, its red eye glowering at her, its mouth completely replaced by a massive speaker made to resemble a shriek. It was in that pause of reflection that she realized that it was the flying baby, and surely hundreds others, that had been the source of the angelic chorus she had heard during the parade.

U.S.S Discretion, Unknown Classification

Stardate: Unknown-future time estimated +38000 years

Location: Intersystem space

Sisko watched the corridor as the remaining members of the boarding party beamed on board.

"Captain, I again strongly recommend we destroy this ship and continue on our way. Chaos is a dangerous and subtle foe. It corrupts and consumes." Warned the Tech-Priest again.

"Negative, Adapt. We look after our own. Let's find a panel, I want a damage report as soon as possible." Whispered Sisko, almost scared to breath.

The corridor was unsettling, completely normal, yet completely wrong at the same time. Not a single aspect of it was out of place save the face that there was absolutely no power what so ever. They'd brought two power packs and Sisko was anxious to get to the bridge and download the logs and get out. If Chaos was as bad as Theoxus made them out to be, Sisko didn't want anything to do with them.

Sisko scanned in all directions, his eyes adjusting to the low dark.

"Set your hand lights to night vision frequencies." He whispered and was answered by five head nods.

Buttons chirped softly and the corridor became painted in red light. This of course was not true night vision. No human could naturally see in complete darkness. However, they could see in extremely dim conditions due to certain light reactive chemicals in their eyes. Should they have keyed their lights to a standard light frequency these precious chemicals would be completely metabolized by the body's perceived lack of need. However, using red lights could fool the eyes of humans into thinking they were still in low light conditions while giving them the light they needed to actually see. Sisko's heart skipped a beat as he frantically scanned for Kira, but calmed slightly again when he remembered that Kira had undergone surgery to disguise her nose ridges as well as any other physical distinctions she might have to set her apart from a human female. The reasoning to this being that a race of such apparent arrogance and belligerence was not expected to be too concerned with the awkwardness of performing physicals on the crew, even if forced. Though she would not pass a genetic exam, Kira's presence was agreed on so as to evaluate the Imperium from an "alien's" perspective.

Satisfied that all were present, Sisko motioned forward.

Sisko led the way down the pitch black corridor, his and his teams hand-lights casting beams of red light and shadows down the hallway at all sorts of angles. The Tech-Priest moved just behind Sisko, his bolt pistol drawn and his servos whirling quietly. Sisko could barely make out the various mechanisms inside the Tech-Priest whirling and working to move the man-machine underneath the crimson robes.

"Draw weapons." Spoke Theoxus so softly that Sisko had to check to confirm that he was the one who said it.

"Do it" Sisko whispered, everyone had placed their hands on their weapons, but waited for his word before six hand phasers were drawn. Continuing on their way, they silently walked down twenty meters of red washed corridors before they made it to a black computer interface. Lieutenant Johnson placed a portable power cell on the perimeter of the monitor and activated it. The monitor hummed weakly to life and Johnson began tapping a series of commands.

"Damage report." Ordered Sisko.

"All power has been directed to the cloak and life support is at a minimum. This" Paused Johnson.

"This doesn't make sense."

"Report." Prompted Sisko.

"There's a malfunction, the ships computer is telling me that the entire ship is decompressed. Wait, now it's telling me that this section had been exposed to space. Whatever has happened here must have corrupted the computer software. I'm going to try to-" Johnson was cut off from speaking any more when Theoxus, faster than reaction allowed, reached out with his arm and pulled him to the side so fast he could have dislocated Johnson's arm.

Almost as fast, the computer monitor began to warp and flex beyond the limits of the materials. It morphed into a six clawed hand and reached out grabbing at the space Johnson had been moments before.

"Purity through faith" Theoxus muttered softly as he produced a new weapon in two new arms that emerged from underneath Theoxus' crimson robes in a flurry of motion. A bladed weapon that sparked with energy sliced through the air and then the twisted computer screen, severing the pseudo limb from the wall, a thousand women's wailing screams could be heard and black blood spewed from the writhing limb as it fell. Theoxus then lifted his augmented leg and brought it down in a thunderous crash before grinding the remnants of the computer screen. More black blood oozed from where the screen met the wall as it returned to what it should have been, an inanimate wall.

"Faith through purity." Concluded Theoxus in another robotic mutter.

"What the fuck was that?" Asked Johnson as he massaged his shoulder and got up.

"The corrupting influence of the Warp." Answered Theoxus simply.

"Bullshit that was influence!" Began lieutenant Shields angrily before he was cut off by a soft noise.

"Shhhhhhh" Hushed Sisko as he strained to hear the noise.

A voice could be heard, singing.

"The dead man's blood drips down my knife, down my knife, down my knife. The dead man's blood drips down my knife, throughout all time." A hauntingly sultry yet innocent female voice sung. The melody was familiar, Sisko struggled to place it. Suddenly the childhood rhyme burst into his mind like a barbarian crashing through a thin wooden door.

"The pleasure pit is fed by pain, fed by pain, fed by pain. The pleasure pit is fed by pain, from sacrifice." Sang the voice further.

"This is chaos." Explained Theoxus, his breathing regular, his movements calm and precise.

"By the will of the Omnissiah, I am purity." He whispered.

Sisko listened to the female voice sing its disturbing lyrics to a childhood rhyme in a sultry voice.

"By the will of the Omnissiah, I am faith." Theoxus cleared his bolt pistol, catching the Bolt flung free from the action with one of his mechandendrites. Placing the ejected bolt back into the magazine and replaced it underneath his robes.

"By the will of the Omnissiah, I am light." He pulled a new magazine, this one more ornate, from underneath his robes while the female voice continued to sing.

"The agony of torture is my joy, is my joy, is my joy. The agony of torture is my joy, until all mortals die"

Theoxus slammed the new magazine in place, slapping the bottom to insure proper placement, he then racked the chamber and finished his apparent prayer as he held the top of his pistol, between the sights, to his forehead.

"By the will of the Omnissiah, I shall cleanse this taint from the steel of machinery, the weakness of flesh, the space of my surroundings, and the sanctity of my soul."

U.S.S Enterprise-E

Stardate: 56909.1

Fleet staging grounds 14 parsecs stellar west of failed Iconian Gate Testing grounds.

Picard briskly walked through the corridors of the Enterprise on his way to the holodeck. While passing one of the many sections of ship where corridors met, he caught movement in his peripheral vision. Looking up he saw Geordi Laforge.

"Heading to the holodeck, Captain?" Geordi asked as he fell in step with Picard.

"Yes, Data said he wanted to show me a new training program he's developed." Elaborated Picard, figuring that Geordi already knew this.

"Same here, sir, he seemed pretty excited about it." Contributed Laforge as they walked the remaining ten meters to the Holodeck.

When they reached the entrance, Picard tapped the console next to the door to see what program was running. The display read, Program Running: Data Imperium Training Program. He next tapped the button and the doors slid open.

A great cacophony assaulted his ears as soon as the doors began to part. Great robotic shouts filled his ears and as the doors opened, he could make out scenes of battle. The holodeck itself was unaltered, empty save a rack of weapons ranging from phaser rifles to simple knives, including some shields that reminded Picard of ancient history. In the center of the holodeck data was being attacked by a man clad in the same crimson robes Theoxus wore. As the battle progressed, Picard realized that it was a recreation of that same Tech-Priest.

Standing at static attention towards the far wall were three immobile figures. One was a recreation of the human troopers that wore grey trench coats, and the other was a recreation of the costume Q had worn when he called himself 'Commissar.' While the third was green and rippled with muscles, an Ork.

Worf was in their two, he was fighting the commissar figure armed with a standard sword and pistol while Worf used his Bat'leth.

The priest's tentacles were a whirlwind of activity as he pelted Data with apparently chaotic, yet precision strikes to his head, and limbs, all the while taking shots at Data with his bolt pistol. Data moved like Picard had never seen before. Data's limbs were almost a blur of slashing and hacking coupled with blocking and punching. He couldn't identify the weapons data was using, so he looked at the weapons rack to try to determine them. He thanked Data's foresight to have the weapons and their places labeled by the computer. The slots marked 'Gladdius' and 'Buckler' were bare, and as Picard looked back he saw that Data had noticed them.

"Computer pause program." Called data and the Tech-Priest froze mid swing. "Reset." The tech priest in mid-swing vanished to be replaced by the same tech-priest appearing across the holodeck standing there.

"Captain, Geordi, thank you for coming." Greeted Data as he replaced the weapon and shield on the rack.

"Data, what is this?" Asked Geordi as he and Picard approached him at the rack.

"Sir, Lieutenant Commander Worf and I are attempting to create a training program to help us prepare for combat with the Imperium of Man as well as with the Orks. Our program is still in its preliminary phase, but we would like you to evaluate it." Explained Data.

"Well, what I've seen just now is quite impressive." Complimented Picard as he watched Worf freeze his opponent and move to join them.

"Data, of the weapons you could use, what made you choose that sword and shield?" asked Geordi pointing towards his weapons.

"I asked the computer to extrapolate a fighting style and program this facsimile to use said style of fighting in varying degrees of intensity. When I initially began testing, I tried to use a phaser rifle and hand phaser. However the Tech-Priest always closed to hand-to hand combat. I then began referencing various culture's hand-to-hand combat weapons and began experimenting with them. I also studied various martial and blade combat forms. Mr. Worf has had more success in ranged combat with the Guardsman and Commissar. However none of our known melee weapons can counter the chain-toothed sword Q used. We should consider all armed with those a priority to eliminate before they close to a range that they can use it." Briefed Data.

"This seems like excellent work, Number one." Complimented Picard. "But how do you compensate for recording hits?"

"The computer functions like a judge in fencing. When a bullet or laser beam or grenade is going to kill someone, the computer automatically changes its properties so it's merely a holographic image that passes through us. It then announces the wound or fatality. We can then adjust our training appropriately." Revealed Data, Picard swearing he could detect a slight trace of pride in Data's otherwise emotionless voice. "Actually Captain, I was hoping you and Geordi would participate in a test of the four of us against four guardsmen."

"As long as you give us adequate time to practice with the weapons you've provided." Answered Picard.

U.S.S Discretion

Stardate: Unknown-future time estimated +38000 years

Locations: Intersystem space

"There is no dishonor in falling back to the Defiant and destroying the ship from a distance, Captain Sisko." He offered, hoping they would take his offer.

"Adept, do I detect a trace of fear?" Goaded Sisko, enraging Theoxus judging by the quivering of his mechandendrites.

"Very well, but be prepared to bury your compatriots on this cursed ship." Retorted Theoxus.

Theoxus began walking with the others, not bothering to conceal himself. His augment-legs thudded on the deck plates and as they rounded the corner Theoxus glimpsed three deamonettes before they scurried out of view.

"Set your weapons to their maximum level." Theoxus spoke flatly.

As they moved through the corridors, a faint noise became apparent and grew in volume. The father they moved through the ship the louder the noise became until they neared a door that was ajar. Sisko could swear that the noise was music, though he refused to associate the cacophony of harsh noise that assaulted his ears with the works of true musicians. The racket was brash, and harsh, hundreds of noises clashed and fought with each other for brief instances of dominance before fading back into what could only be called a brawl of sound.

"Stack on the door." Ordered Sisko as they neared the door with him second in the line up behind Kira. But before Sisko could give the order Theoxus strode around them in two powerful strides and wrenched the doors open with his mechanical arm mounted to his back, the doors shrieking in protest as if guarding the contents of the room.

"Move!" shouted Sisko as he and his team moved into the interior of the room.

The instant they moved through the doorway the wailing screech of the noise became almost unbearable. Kira clutching her ears in pain as she winced from its assault. Sisko ignored the pain in his ears and scanned the room, only to bend over and empty the contents of his stomach upon seeing what the room held.

The walls were slathered in dry and fresh blood and various other bodily fluids, all of which filled the room with a viciously rank odor. However when he glimpsed what was born on the wall he was filled with revulsion and vomited again, spilling bile on his shoes and struggling to keep his phaser trained. On the wall across from him, his team, and Theoxus, was a woman. Nailed to the wall, her flesh was stretched taunt by the nails holder her captive and blood trickled from where they bit into her skin. Around her body were glyphs scrawled in a circle, they were clearly drawn in the woman's blood as it dripped from her wounds.

On the floor in front of him was a sprawling mass of, of people. Utterly naked, the sprawling mass of at least thirty people were crammed into the room, engaging in acts of carnal lust and murderous horrors that appalled Sisko and assaulted his mind where they imprinted themselves on his memory.

The music began to grow in its intensity and the crowd before him writhed and shuddered as waves of agony and ecstasy washed and crashed against each other. Suddenly, the woman nailed to the wall began to twitch, and shudder as if being controlled by an unseen puppeteer. Before Sisko could utter his next orders to cut her down, he felt Theoxus' mechandendrites wrap around him and hurl him through the door they had just come through. Time slowed as he looked around and saw that the other members of his team had been likewise thrown. Beyond them Sisko saw Theoxus move two of his mechandendrites. One tipped by a harsh blue flame, the other belching some gas that was tinged blue and rippled as it gusted from him into the room. Theoxus backed from the room and Sisko watched him apply the small flame to the gasses and witnessed the room of horrors become a flaming inferno. Screams washed over him as the music came crashing down and was consumed in the raging inferno.

Suddenly an agonizing scream filled the air as the lights of the ship came on to their full brightness, strobing so fast Theoxus doubted the humans could discern a thing. A brief half moment later groups of deamonettes rounded the corners and began closing on him and Sisko's group from all three angles of approach.

Spear of Gork, Warboss Skull-Basha's Flagship

The Warp

Time of WAAAGH! Skull-Basha

Warboss Skull-Basha ached for a warp incursion. He longed for deamons to appear in his ship, anything to stop the boredom of warp travel. His weapon, Thumpa, pulsed in his grip itching to be swung in anger. Skull-Basha had made Thumpa by lashing two of the 'umies sparky hammers together with thick hides of Ork leather. Whatever he swung it at was promptly crushed beneath unrelenting crunchiness. His boys were brawling throughout the ship, driving to internal fighting by the tediousness of their time in the warp without an enemy to fight.

Before he could stand up and join them by crushing a boy that had had the audacity to look at him wrong, Spear of Gork shuddered as it left the boredom of the warp.

"Boss! There's anotha planet! It's covered in da Bumpy-eads!" cried out a grot as he danced on his station at the thought of imminent violence.

Skull-Basha stabbed his massive green finger at the button to broadcast over the fleet's vox, "Get ready for da smell of pink blood and da sound of crushed bumpy-eads! WAAAGH!"

Dozens of landers hurled themselves from the Spear of Gork and the other ships of his fleet before he could order them too. Skull-Basha chuckled inwardly to himself as he left the bridge to lead the charge. He would punish the nob that ordered their launch, further securing his station, and further strengthening himself as the greatest warboss.

U.S.S. Discretion

5.709.987.M40

Wild Space to the Galactic East of the Spartan Sector, Ultima Segmentum.

"I'll take this vector! Secure the other two!" He shouted as he leveled his Bolter and released the Emperor's judgment upon these blasphemers. Four Bolts sprang fourth in rapid succession and went flying at over the speed of sound to their heretical targets. He could hear Sisko and his men struggling to hold the other vectors. Cries of "What is that!?" and "It's still coming!" were prevalent. Theoxus watched through his visual augments, the four bolts streaked through the corridor before closing with the deamonettes. Of the four only one missed and blew apart part of the bulkhead down-range. The other three buried themselves in the perverse, hermaphroditic chests of two of the three assailants. There, they paused a split microsecond, barely allowing the first impulses of pain to travel up the agonizingly slow nerves of whatever nervous system deamons had before they exploded and the tore the deamons apart in a terrific explosion of explosives, holy oils, and a violent release of warp energy as the deamonettes were banished back to the warp.

"Stun has no effect, sir!" Shouted one of Sisko's Armsmen, Theoxus didn't care to learn their names.

"Switch to kill!" Shouted Sisko as Theoxus watched him level his own 'phaser' at the charging and screaming deamonette.

Theoxus turned back to his own corridor and realized that he had let the target close too much, the deamonette had closed the distance so fast that it could strike at him. And it did. Theoxus barely had enough time to use his mechandendrites to catch the wildly swinging claw/arm hybrid and break it off before he thrust the muzzle of his bolt pistol into the deamonettes chest with such force that it buried itself in its chest. He relished in the metallic _click_ as the firing pin struck and the bolt detonated in the deamonette's chest mere milliseconds later.

Satisfied his corridor was secure, Theoxus quickly judged the situation around him. His corridor was secure for the moment, however an additional ten deamonettes had emerged from the far end of Sisko's corridor and were charging him and his armsmen. Their phasers were having limited effect, having vaporized one deamonette, but only disorienting another. _Such an unreliable weapon._ The human called Kira and her small team were holding their corridor well, only having to deal with three deamonettes.

Satisfied with his size-up of the situation, Theoxus moved his plan forged in a half second into action. Reaching out with his mechandendrites he drove them into the ceiling and walls, expanding their manipulators after they penetrated allowing him to hand from them. He then lifted himself up and scaled the ceiling in this fashion until he was above Sisko and his men. At this point Theoxus activated the shield module he had built, manipulating it to face his back should the human Armsmen, in their doubtless terror, mistake him for the enemy. _Four bolts expended, eight remaining,_ assessed Theoxus during his inverted travel. He reached for a spare magazine, and the pouch sprang from underneath his robes to meet his extending third arm of four. There it was held until he would reload.

Finally Theoxus had passed the armsmen in front of Sisko and he dropped in front of them. A massive twin _thud-thud_ reverberated through the deck as his augmented legs impacted with it and absorbed the energy of his landing. Theoxus felt the reflexive shots of the Armsmen impact with his shield module poised at his back as he raised his own bolter and loosed all eight of his remaining bolts. The bolts screamed down the hallway, eager to carry out their singular purpose. Six of the bolts dove into the chests of three deamonettes before they gleefully detonated and banished the deamonettes in screaming swirls of warp energy. The other two were not so well placed, only slightly high and to the right, this minor degree or error was compounded by the deamonette's limber dodge. Only a single bolt impacted with the hermaphroditic abomination, catching it in the shoulder where it blew the deamonette's left upper limb, for it couldn't truly be called an arm or any other singular appendage, clean from the blasphemous torso. The deamonette staggered, pausing briefly to glance at its missing limb before releasing a terrible shriek and resuming its charge.

"Focus fire left to right!" shouted Sisko, rallying his men into renewed discipline and ferocity.

Orange beams leapt out over Theoxus's shoulders, they met at a single target, various points yes, but a single target being the deamonette farthest to the left. It disintegrated in an orange shower of particulates and warp energy. The focused down the next target, and then the next, all while Theoxus rapidly reloaded his Bolt pistol and sent glorious purification down-range once more from the right to left.

"Flank and rear clear!" Cried out the fragile Kira.

"Hold and watch! Continue focused fire!" instructed Sisko in what would have sounded as cool confidence if Theoxus could not have detected the, albeit subtle, warbles of fear buried underneath the mask of command.

This fashion of continuing fire, orange beams from left to right, and holy bolts from right to left, until they met in the middle and dispatched the last deamonette.

"No bodies." Commented Kira.

"Deamons do not leave bodies to my understanding. In my now twenty-seven encounters I have yet to witness a single deamon leave corporeal remains." Explained Theoxus as he once again replaced the magazine of his bolt pistol, while he stripped the remaining bolts from the two half spent and combined them to fill a magazine save one bolt before he replaced it beneath his robes.

"So, these are deamons?" Asked Sisko.

"One variety of an infinitely diverse stock. There is no time to discuss, we must be highly mobile, that is our only hope if the ship has fallen." Reminded Theoxus as he turned to face Sisko.

"Very well Theoxus. Johnson, did you get directions to the bridge?" asked Sisko.

"Yes, it's four decks up and forty meters forward." Answered Johnson as he nursed a scrape to his forearm.

"Lead the way." Commanded Sisko as they set off ad a brisk jog, clearing corners as they were met. All the while Theoxus mulling over his memory files of Johnson's use of the console. He hadn't been paying his absolute attention to Johnson's activities while he had scanned the corridor, only catching the console's demented metamorphosis due to his omni-vision catching the movement, reflexes, and pure luck. But his memory file of Johnson's precise interactions with the console were incomplete, sibling to his lack of memory as to where Johnson sustained the scrape on his forearm. _Note: possible corruption of Johnson. Insufficient evidence to merit termination. Loss of fire/manpower: too great to merit summary execution at present. Conclusion: Observe, access, eliminate._

The Monolith, Sparta

5.709.987.M40

Crusade Clock: C-164

Gaius Spartacus Valerius Marched through the grand hallways that sprawled the interior of the Monolith like an insects hive. His steps a thunderous cadence that was only outmatched by the terminator armor worn by the Assault Teams of the twenty-fifth Grand Company. His thunderous pace was monotonous, and deceiving, for it hid something truly dangerous to any who bode him ill. The Sancti Ocularis, his personal body guard, marched in perfect cadence with him. They marched it so well to him, that they could seemingly anticipate his movements without a single command for him. They understood him so well that he could wield them and their deadly efficiency as if they were part of his power armor.

The Sancti Ocularis, translated from High Gothic was 'The Sacred Eye' with its moto being 'Semper Vigilantes' or always watching. They distinguished themselves from the rest of the Chapter in a subtle yet brash method. They all wore Artificer Armor only inferior in quality to his own, ancient relics from the age of the Founders with some believed to predate even them. Their armor was gilded to represent the anatomy of an astartes. Two gigantic pectoral muscles adorned the chest plates with an imperial Aquila embossed onto them, its eagle head standing out from the cuirass in bold defiance. Holy Scripture adorned the eight abdominal muscles. The rest of their power armor was like adorned with anatomical artwork blended with various iconography. The guard was made of thirty men, and six of them were part of the Interius Circuli. Serving as advisors to the Spartan-Ultimate, it was told in the surviving texts that some of the legions of antiquity had fielded counsels of select astartes to advise their great Primarchs on the path of righteousness.

But there were no Primarchs here. No great demigods of destruction and fidelity to link the Spartans to their ultimate father and ultimate of humanity, the God Emperor. The name of their Primarch was lost to the ages, in fact all knowledge of their founding, save the fact that it occurred and small scraps of information, had been lost during the bloodthirster's rampage through the chapter's libraries during the Raid of the Blasphemers. Attempts had been made during the millennia of isolation by the chapter's apothecary and the sector's Genetors of the Mechanicum, all without success. The best they could discern was that their gene-seed was stable, if dangerous. If the initiate was not properly prepared for the implantations, they would wreak havoc on his body through horrible cancers and mutations that turned his blood into acid, liquefied his brain, scorched his nerves, or calcified his bones into solid rods, unable to flex.

Semni and servitors parted before him and his guard as waves before the stone. Either spotting him and his cohort dozens of meters away from down the hallway or by the thunderous raucous he and his guard caused as they marched throughout the grand halls of the Monolith, two of his guard at either flank, and eight forming a circle about him, with another two directly behind him bearing his personal heraldry alongside the chapter's banner.

The message of the Sancti Ocularis was clear, 'If you want to harm him, you first must get through us.' Their sheer presence was often enough to deter any malevolent thoughts from any Valerius might encounter. But in case that was not enough, or when he took to the battlefield himself, they were very well armed. The outer eight were armed with the most intricate master crafted storm-shields, power halberds and wrist mounted storm bolters save his own. The inner two armed with their preferred weapons. The Interius Circuli at his right side, Kelvanis Malnae, carried a master crafted melta-combi bolter as well as his wrist mounted storm bolter, while the Spartan on his left, Willun Terinar, carried his most prized weapon, an ancient Thunder Hammer believed crafted by the first Spartan-Ultimate. Valerius carried the most sacred relic to the chapter, the only force hammer in their possession, 'Blind Justice.'

Passed from Spartan-Ultimate to Spartan-Ultimate, the first trials of their tenure as Master of the Spartans was to master this truly powerful weapon under the tutelage of the Librarius-Ultimate. After great effort, even the most psychically inept Spartan-Ultimate could wield the hammer with terrible efficiency. Yet, as is the nature of force weapons, only one gifted in the ways of the psyker can wield it with any hope of achieving its full devastation. Resulting in the tradition that every master of the Spartans have some trace of psyker ability. Valerius was fully cognizant of the fact that his knowledge of such powers was rudimentary at best and that he would never achieve the prowess of the Librarians, and he didn't want to. All he wished was the ability to wield Blind Justice with unhindered fury, and he did.

Valerius and his cohort marched into the Teleportaria Primus on the first tier of the Monolith. A truly massive spectacle of power, it was one of five in the Spartans' possession. Capable of teleporting fifty brothers at once, it and its four brother machines were housed one in each of the five tiers of the Monolith. Massive power cables draped from the ceiling and connected to enormous power coils that arced with electricity, aching to be unleashed. His guard matched his pace as he ascended the grand staircase etched with names whose owners' deeds had been lost to the Raid of the Blasphemers.

Valerius turned around once he reached the center of the great platform, his Sancti Ocularis silently matching his movement in perfect harmony.

"Semnus Dominus," He spoke as he addressed the Master of the Chapter Serfs. "I charge you with the well-being of our Monolith, our Initiates, and our histories whilst we embark on this great crusade in the name of his holy Emperor of Mankind."

"Lord Spartan-Ultimate, Master of the Spartans, bringer of death and glory." Began Semnus Dominus Arthesar Donnihu. "I accept your charge with humble determination. May the Emperor himself witness you, my Lord."

Valerius held Blind Justice above his head and let loose a bellow "Witness us!"

A chorus of Semni cried out in perfect singularity "Witness!" and as the cries echoed in his ears, the air began to pop and crackle. Lightning bolts arced across his vision until on in particular blotted out the Teleportaria Primus and was gone as rapidly as it appeared, replaced by the Teleportaria buried inside the workings of the Battle Barque 'Spartacus the Ultimate.'


	8. VIII

****AUTHOR'S NOTE: Greetings everyone. As always thank you all for your patience in my updates to this series. Life update: I have finished the last of my Field time for my paramedic. Now I just have to go through 3 layers of testing to get my medic. Please note that the fluff I'm writing for the Spartans is in constant shift, and as a result changes will happen to the story. Changes as of now include: Chaplain=Reclusiarch, Librarian=Scholarian, Librarian-Ultimate=Pro-Scholarian, Power-Halberds are now Chain-Halberds, Storm-Shields are now Siege Mantlets unless called Storm-Shields. Once again, thank you all for your patience!****

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"ORKS! ORKS! ORKS! ORKS!" –Common chant heard during Ork attacks

Boss Skull-Basha's camp, Sum Bump'ead rock

Time: Oo' cares

Past da portal

Warboss Skull-Basha reveled in his victories, 4 worlds had fallen too his hordes and his lieutenants were now with him around the great bon fire that roared as loud as a squiggoth. Gretchen scampered underfoot brining pink tinged meat roasted over flamah juice. The bump'eads that let themselves be captured by the Runtherds and their hordes of howling gretchin rapidly learned they should have died fighting as they watched the Painboys experiment on them, were forced to clean the squig pens, were cooked for food, or were simply killed for fun. Boss Skull-Basha had to keep the bloodlust of his troops in check lest they begin to fight each other.

He took a massive bite out of the roasted leg of what had been part of a bump'ead that called himself the 'Guvna' of this world and surveyed his lieutenants around the fire. Smok-Belcha sat on his right ravenously tearing at a semi-cooked arm hulking in his Mega'armor, a large could of black greasy smoke bellowing from the cruse chrome exhaust pipes attached to his mega-armor. Next to him was Bluddrinka, and after that was Grease-Sniffa the clan Big-Mek in his oily mega'armor, and then-

"Boss, whatcha finkin o' doin now? We'z got five bump'ead rocks now, an' we still ain't seen a single 'umie. Deys da best eatin an' I want sum red meat!" called Bluddrinka after throwing a gretchin into the fire for not bringing him his food fast enough.

"We'z gotta finish dese 'ere bump'eads for we can goez for da 'umies 'ere. Ma Boyz is gonna stick togeva or da WAAAGH is gonna slow up!" Shouted Skull-Basha, putting down Bluddrinka's thirst.

Bluddrinka wasn't a threat to him, but Skull-Basha had to shout him down or appear weak. The only Ork he believed that could possibly beat him one day was Smok-Belcha. Smok-Belcha was just as big as Skull-Basha, but not as good of a brawler as he was. Something that Skull-Basha reminded him of every chance he got. Nor did he command the respect of the others as only the title of Warboss could give Skull-Basha. Skull-Basha was wary of Smok-Belcha, if he wasn't careful he might try something, but Skull-Basha made sure to send him to the toughest fights second to his own, only Skull-Basha got the biggest fights so he could be the biggest Ork.

"I fink we ain't got enuf fightin. You'z got us lootin one world, but den we stay dere for days wiffou' a single zoggin grot to fight! You'z goin too slow ya git!" challenged an Ork.

Skull-Basha bit his roasted leg so hard his teeth punched right through his bottom lip. He spit out his food and looked to his right, standing up and drawing his weapons as he did so.

"Watcha say ya zoggin git!?" Bellowed Skull-Basha into Smok-Belcha's face.

"You eard me! Yur weak! Yur slow! Yur Old!" Bellowed Smok-Belcha as well, also rising, his mega'armor groaning and hissing as the hydraulics and pistons worked to raise the massive armor plates bolted and welded to his hulking frame.

Skull-Basha Immediately raised his twin-linked shoota on his own mega-armor and pulled the trigger. However, he was visibly stunned when Smok-Belcha's powa-klaw grabbed his shoota and pushed it aside sending the hail of bullets into two of his other lieutenants who had just a moment before been shouting cheers and jeers at who they thought would win, passing teeth to another boy to make bets.

Skull-Basha roared as he jerked his shoota out of Smok-Belcha's grip and swung at him with his own as he ducked his head and shoulder charged towards Smok-Belcha. Smok-Belcha started to turn aside to let Skull-Basha charge past him but he didn't do it fast enough. Skull-Basha's shoulder caught him in the chest and knocked Smok-Belcha off balance. Or it should have.

Skull-Basha found himself to be the one staggering as his charged was knocked off and he struggled to turn himself around in time to see Smok-Belcha's shoota rising up barking loudly as bullets leaped from the barrels of the weapon for him. Skull-Basha didn't care, he let loose a deafening bellow as the bullets struck him, pinging off his armor and occasionally hitting his exposed joints and legs. His bellow wasn't an expression of pain, but pure rage. Smok-Belcha had never been able to beat him, and their fights had never lasted this long and he had beaten Smok-Belcha quickly.

Every Ork within sight and earshot was bellowing cheers and rolling bellows of WAAAHG! were echoing across the camp. Those that Skull-Basha could see were stomping their feet and pounding their chests with their fists.

Smok-Belcha charged at Skull-Basha again, firing his twin-linked shoota the whole way, rounds cutting into Skull-Basha's arms and legs, pinging off his armor, or missing him and cutting down boys and gretchin behind him. Grot Orderlies scurried about behind Skull-Basha, jamming needles into the injured before dragging the now unconscious Orks to the Doks' tents to be fixed up with some nice shiny bits.

Skull-Basha stood his ground and raised his own shoota firing a booming horde of bullets at Smok-Belcha while he raised his own powa-klaw to slash at Smok-Belcha's face. Smok-Belcha bellowed as he closed to arms reach and Skull-Basha brought down his powa-klaw in a bone crunching swing. But he was shocked again to see that his strike didn't hit Smok-Belcha's face and instead hit his armored shoulder, carving a deep gouge into his armor, but otherwise doing nothing.

Seeking to regain the initiative, Skull'Basha moved his feet, shifting his weight forward to try to absorb the weight of Smok-Belcha's charge. Skull-Basha grunted as he and Smok-Belcha collided in a thunderous din of groaning armor, hissing hydraulics, screeching armor joints, and booming shootas. They tore at each other with their powa'klaws while continuing to fire at each other. Skull'Basha breaking the barrels off of Smok-Belcha's shoota and almost tearing it off of Smok-Belcha's armor. But Smok-Belcha managed to cut the power cables and hydraulics leading to his left leg and he felt the sudden increase of weight that signified a loss of function to his leg.

They stood there, locked together by furious blows and bellowing roars. Skull-Basha managed to knock off Smok-Belcha's Jaw armor, only to see that he'd spray painted his mouth chrome like he did before battle. Suddenly Skull-Basha felt himself tipping backwards, slowly at first but then he felt his weight shift under Smok-Belcha's blows and pushes just enough to topple him.

Smok-Belcha didn't waste a second and immediately jumped on top of him, pinning Skull-Basha's shoota with a massive armored boot and grabbing Skull-Basha's arm at the vulnerable elbow with his powa-klaw. Roaring in satisfaction, Smok-Belcha's powa-klaw clamped down and Skull-basha head the hiss of hydraulics and the screech of metal cutting metal before he felt the pain of his arm being crushed and cut.

Skull-Basha bellowed in anger and pain as his arm was cut off at the elbow, he desperately tried to jerk his arm free and smashed his jaw armor into Smok-Belcha's face, but it didn't work and suddenly Skull-Basha felt a distinct lack of sensation in his right arm and knew that it and his shoota was gone.

Roaring in rage Skull-Basha desperately tried to kick Smok-Belcha off of him, but he couldn't and Smok-Belcha began using what remained if his shoota to pummel Skull-Basha's powa-klaw. Unable to get any leverage without his arm, Skull-Basha rolled towards his powa-klaw trying to knock Smok-Belcha off his feet. But it didn't work Smok-Belcha smashed his powa-klaw into Skull-Basha's face and tore off his jaw armor before proceeding to use both of his arms as clubs and smashing them into Skull-Basha's face.

Skull-Basha roared in defiance as he reached up with his powa-klaw trying to catch Smok-Belcha's arm in it, but Smok-Belcha kept pummeling his face and he felt teeth pop free and bones start to crack. He roared again, resigned to his betrayal, but confident in the single tenant of Ork culture, might makes right. Skull-Basha watched as Smok-Belcha raised both his arms and bellowed a mighty roar heard throughout the camp before Smok-Belcha brought both of his arms down together in a single, massively powerful blow and Skull-Basha felt everything disappear and everything go black.

* * *

'Spartacus the Ultimate' Spartan Pattern Battle Barque

5.709.989.M40

The Immaterium, en route to fleet rally point

Crusade clock: C-139 standard hours

Gaius Spartacus Valerius stood on the Strategium of his ship, 'Spartacus the Ultimate' beside Semtain Gabriel Von Hertshel. The Strategium of Spartan ships were designed so that it was a large, semicircular platform raised just above the heads of the primary bridge level. It sat just behind the captain's throne and pulpit and was connected to them and their platform by a marble walkway. In the middle and towards the front of the Strategium was a raised dais with a holo-table which was slaved with numerous holo-projectors to assist in strategic command and the many, many briefings that took place here.

The hulking voidship tore its way through the warp with torrents of energy scream around the ship, colliding with the Gellar field and howling in anger at the violation of their perverse realm with this pocket of order. Normally the warp wouldn't protest this much, however there were hundreds of pockets of reality tearing through the daemonic realm as they hurtled towards the Hakanus System, home of Hive World T'saba. In all directions, Valerius could see his mighty fleet scattered around him in an extremely loose formation, holo-pict overlays sharpened the blurred and patchy glimpses of the fleet with green skeletons of light.

The Battle Barque itself was gigantic, measuring nine kilometers long from stem to stern. She was armed with two batteries of four macro cannons per side as opposed to the traditional single battery. Seven bombardment cannons sat atop the dorsal hull in front of the command center, and along the immediate port and starboard bow. Predating the chapter, it was unknown what prompted the Founders and now dead Mechanicum Priests to design such a large variant other than its ability to house one thousand space marines at once. This naturally led to Valerius' brothers being crammed into the ship at every available location above the lower decks and Semni quarters.

The ship was completely covered in anti-fighter and anti-bomber batteries ranging from missile pods and large assault cannons to lascannon arrays. The Spartacus Pattern Battle Barque truly had no equal in the Spartan sector. It's only weaknesses were being out numbered, out maneuvered, or a foolish commander.

Resplendent in his intricate armor, festooned in the liveries of his office and oaths of moment and faith. He stared out into the energetic torrents as immobile and impassive as the grim eagle who projected its head from his cuirass in an unflinching stare as its wings flared around Valerius' cuirass along his chest over his collar bones towards his power pack. The Iron Halo behind his head thrummed quietly with ancient power and emitted a soft golden glow. As he shifted his weight, the Cloak of Sparta ruffled from the clutches of the Aquilla on his left pauldron and on his left shoulder. A faint chink could barely be heard even by his super hearing as the Fleur de Adelvicia hung from a golden chain affixed to the beak of the grim-faced eagle on his breast. He could also feel the minor shifting of the bolt-chute that lead from the cylindrical pod on his power-pack to 'vehement Rage', the storm-bolter mounted to his right vambrace. 'Blind Justice' rested on its head next to him and he held it loosely in his mighty and gauntleted left hand. He watched to proceedings of the ship and the empyrean as he felt his armor embrace him in its customary manner, through his various interfaces he could swear that he felt it all, from the Crux Terminatus borne on the left pauldron he'd kept from his numerous tours with the Assault Teams to the Skull primary exhaust ports on his power-pack, from the heraldry of the Primarian Corps on the forward edge of his right pauldron to the Litany of Secluded Fidelity hanging from the front of his belt, and the Tome of Spartacus that hung from engraved chains on his left hip. He was part of his battle-gear, and his battle-gear was part of him.

"Stand by for translation." Called the Officer of the Con, Jacobii O'toulle.

"The altar is green." Announced the master Tech-Priest. "The Omnissiah is with us."

"The Navigator has relayed coordinates." Called out an unknown minor bridge officer from her station besides the helmsmen.

"Commence translation." Ordered Semtain Hertshel's voice throughout the Strategium from his place just in front of the Holo-table at the front of the dais. Valerius, as did almost all Spartan officers, preferred to let the Semtains of their vessels command them. Choosing to act more like an admiral on a battleship, Spartan officers issued general orders, or directed the fleet of an engagement and let the Semtain command the ship as he or she saw fit. The philosophy of this was that the Semtain has proven his or her worth during their absence enough that they need not wrestle the reigns from their capable hands during their tenures on board.

Valerius was no exception to this consensus and he confidently left command of his vessel to Gabriel Hertshel, who had served as Semtain of 'Spartacus the Ultimate' for near eighty year now and been through numerous engagements with pirates and participated in sixteen major campaigns of security against various forces leveled against the sector during the Age of Isolation.

"Translation in ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six." Called out the Officer of the Conn.

A small prick of absolute darkness appeared directly in front of the ship in stark contrast to the swirling rainbow of energies. It grew slowly as ever more currents of energy flickered and tore at the protective boundary of the Gellar field. As Valerius watched, his attention divided between the main viewport transpara-steel and the holo-table he stood before. The holo-pict showed green skeletons of the ships in his fleet flickering yellow and winking out one at a time as they tore their way back into the material void. Once the last ship had translated, the holo-table display transitioned to a tactical display of the system, glowing orbs seemingly stationary on threading orbits. Upon the fleet's reemergence the ships appeared once again as yellow arrows, before they flickered green status indicators once again.

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Mark!" Called out the Conn officer.

The prick of black suddenly exploded to occupy the entire view of the ship with the only change being arks of electricity and roiling ribbons of energy clawing at the ship. Steel, Ferrocrete, and indeed the entire ship groaned. In the blink of an eye, the six planet and 17 moon solar system rushed up to the fleet at such speed that it seemed they would collide until they stopped just as quickly. It seemed as if they would charge straight through the formation of ships, 'Spartacus the Ultimate' translated from the void and rushed into its place in the heart of the truly impressive formation.

"Translation complete." Announced the Conn officer.

"All stations report status as green." Called out a young female semni at a console to Valerius' left.

"Navigation confirms destination."

"Con, Chrono-satilites show we are five hours ahead of our scheduled arrival time."

"My Lords, warp jump successful. We are five hours ahead of schedule." Reported the Conn to Semtain Hertshel and Spartan-Ultimate Valerius still facing his charges and the void beyond.

"Make contact with Hakanus System Traffic Control. Advise them of our premature arrival and our plotted course to Tsaba." Ordered Hertshel as he circled the holo-table, surveying the system.

The Spartan Fleet moved into formation at the transition point just outside of the system. Destroyers formed picket patrols, cruisers floated near battle barques and barges, and amongst the numerous ships floated nine unique vessels. Almost seven kilometers in length, they were dwarfed only by the hulking battle barges and barques. Scaffolding and great chimneys spiked away from their cylindrical forms. The front of the vessels sported a nova cannon and a massive command spire protruding directly forwards. Meanwhile the stern of each ship pulsed with thrumming plasma engines that pulsed with power as potent as the smoke that billowed from the chimneys of hundreds upon hundreds of furnaces and forges that were responsible to maintaining the crusading fleet.

"Lord Spartacus, I carry an astropathic dispatch for you from Inquisitor Siegfried." Spoke a quiet, almost fearful, feminine voice from behind him.

Turning to see the messenger, Gaius Spartacus Valerius was greeted by the sight of a bowing young woman with significant cerebral cyber-augments and a strip of white cloth over her blind eyes. She had an excellent physique for a non-astartes and would undoubtly produce excellent prospects for the Spartans upon her marriage if she so chose. Around her were huddled five even lower adepts, blinded from their duties and muttering unintelligible endless streams of words as they paced around her.

"Rise, Semna," Spoke Valerius with a neutral expression tied with a kind voice as he gestured with his left hand. "I will hear what message you have for me here."

"Very well, Lord." She spoke nervously rising. _She must be young indeed to be so cowed by my presence, perhaps this is her first time carrying a message for me._ Thought Valerius as he maintained his neutral expression while she took a single deep breath.

"Lord Spartacus, Inquisitor Siegfried sends his regards, and wishes to inform you that he has taken the liberty to begin work on a network alert system. This system functions by all planets in the Spartan sector maintaining a constant psychic link to Sparta. The links will be one way and will consist of a constant 'all is well' signal being broadcasted to Sparta. Sparta in turn will constantly broadcast an 'all is well' signal to Segmentum command, all Spartan fleets, and to Terra itself. Should the signal cease, he advises that all Spartans and available militant units make best speed for Sparta to counter whatever attack is taking place." Spoke the young woman so quickly that if Valerius had been of lesser genetic stock he may not have understood it.

"Thank you, Semna. Please send my receipt of his message and my regards, we eagerly await the coming operation of this early alert system. You may go." Dismissed Valerius as he turned towards his Interius Circuli and motioned for Pro-Scholarian Cassius Armellus to join them.

"Gaius, do you think we're going to need an alert system like that?" Asked Cassius Armellus in a low whisper.

"I agree with the Pro-Scholarian," chimed in Kelvanis Malnae "To have such a system seems to only invite the fates to doom us with trouble of some sort."

Valerius turned towards Willun Terinar who was remaining silent.

"Willun? What say you?" Asked Valerius as he shifted his grip on Blind Justice's long handle while it rested at his side.

"I think it's foolish to think our Sector, and ourselves to be safe. If the histories we've obtained from the Inquisitor show us anything it's that the Imperium can change radically and turn on even its most faithful servants. The greater Imperium has changed radically since we were separated from them millennia ago. Combine that with our now obviously dangerous size of fourteen thousand astartes, I think that we are in more danger than we may realize. And that is without consideration to the countless additional xenos and heretical forces we will be exposed to now that we have rejoined the Greater Imperium." Cautioned Willun in his usual monotone.

"Ha! Willun, I always did like your grim pessimism. I value all of your counsel, but I'm forced to agree with Kelvanis this time. I would like to believe that we are relatively safe from facing a sector assault from hostile forces, but I fear that we can never be too safe. Redundancy my brothers, our great architectural feats, namely the monolith are only possible due to redundancies. May we have far more layers of protection than we shall ever need, and may our enemies have far too few than they could hope to raise against us!" Cheered and chuckled Valerius as he reached out and firmly punched Willun's cuirass in fraternal solidarity.

They turned from each other, and from his position on the Strategium Valerius watched as wings of fighters weaved throughout the fleet and destroyers patrolled while they waited to hear back from Hakanus control.

* * *

The High Lord's Hall, Southern Spire of the Imperial Palace

5.709.987.M40

Holy Terra

High Lord Adrienn Zaire threw open the doors to his estate before the menials could push the large ancient mahogany doors open. Fury emanated from him in overpowering waves as he stormed through his estate atop the southern-most spire at the very edge of the Imperial Palace.

Filled with bile, Zaire cursed the other High Lords' stupidity. He begged the God-Emperor for the wisdom to comprehend how to counter the lunacy of allowing the Spartans to continue to exist. He begged for forgiveness in allowing himself to be over-ruled. He desperately hoped that he could find a way to persuade the other High Lords.

 _A single chapter martialing a force of fourteen thousand astartes is beyond absurd!_ He raged. _Regardless of the desperate times we live in, the Tyrranids, the Tau, the Necrons, the Orks, Chaos even have proven to be less dangerous to naked, unchecked, and enabled human ambition. How to the other Lords not see this?_

Zaire stomped onto a large tram-elevator and punched the ascend button so hard the plasta-composite it was made of cracked. During the three minute ascent he paced the platform like a caged animal, struggling to understand how this series of events had taken place. Zaire was so consumed in inner thought that he didn't notice when the tram-elevator came to a stope and the large gilded doors slid open revealing a single large circular room. Fifty meters in circumference, the room was close to the very top of the spire and overlooked much of the Himalazian mountain range. Or rather what had been the Himilazians. Zaire had obtained an ancient pict-capture of the Himilazians before their conversion into the bastion of the Holy Palace. One of his favorite possessions, he kept it in this sanctuary as a reminder of virgin beauty, the innocence of youth, and how they both inevitably die. He walked to the small, one-meter canvas and gazed at the lines of stone and granite and snow, finding a measure of peace and tranquility from it.

But the comfort he gained from the piece tasted bitter in his mind. Tearing himself away from the artwork, he strode to the transpara-steel wall and stared down onto Holy Terra as it was now. Covered in sprawling city-scape, the lower levels choked and bathed in pollution while the upper layers generated it. _The past is dead, this is Terra now. Innocence is ignorance, it must be killed before it kills you._ Zaire's eyes traced the paths of ships and various craft as they plummeted down to the vast docks, or burned their engines in defiant effort to break atmo. His eyes traced the pillars of smoke and clouds of smog that engulfed the great ravines between the hive structures.

A cough drew Zaire from his contemplation.

Startled and puzzled, Zaire looked around but saw nothing. Thinking he imagined the noise he dismissed it and returned to his brooding. After six rejuvenative treatments and enough augments that some tech-priests, albeit significantly minor ones, regarded him in envy he was very well aware that at his age he would imagine sights and sounds. That was a satisfactory explanation of his obvious audio hallucination. That was until he heard it again.

Whipping around where he stood Zaire placed his hand on his bolt-pistol about to call for his guards, but stopped when he saw what now stood in front of him, immediately, and slowly removing his hand from his bolt-pistol and holding it open, palm forward at shoulder level.

Before High Lord Adrienn Zaire stood four figures, one was adorned in battle kit. Carapace armor ground and chinked on itself as the figure shifted his weight while eagerly flexing his hands around his weapon. Two were adorned in simple priest robes, though their physic gave them away as anything but men of the Ecclesiarchy. The fourth wasn't a man, but a woman. Adorned in the most exquisite power armor he had ever seen. The armor increased her bulk and dominating presence, without taking away from her femininity, it followed her curves while projecting raw power. Her face was elegant, it looked as if it had been carved from the finest pale marble, and had been framed in hair made from the purest snow. Her vibrant green eyes pierced his very soul as easily as the most powerful lance turrets burned through a sheet of steel. As Zaire examined her armor he suddenly saw something that made his blood chill and his hair stand on end.

Emblazoned on her chest and worked into the armor itself, was a single large letter 'I' with three horizontal lines through it at the middle. The color drained from Zaire's face.

"I-Inquisitor." Zaire all but stuttered.

"Hello Adrienn." She greeted him warmly, as if they had known each other for years, her voice lilted melodically. It was seductive, yet Zaire was reminded of the tales of ancient sirens that lured countless mariners to their deaths upon the razor rocks.

"Who are you?" Zaire demanded, his courage returning with the color of his face.

"Dear Adrienn, that is something that you need not know. All you need to know about me is that I am a friend." She spoke, her eyes boring into him with none of the hospitality that her voice portrayed.

Adrienn Zaire was wary of those of the Inquisition calling him 'friend.'

"Well then, 'friend.' What can I do for you?" Asked Zaire cautiously.

"You can tell me what has you in such a sour mood, dear Adrienn." She said, disquieting concern in her voice.

"The other Lords are blind! Half of them are perfectly fine with the Spartans existence, the others are willing to let themselves be overruled. The Spartans blaspheme the Emperor's name by elevating a pantheon of "Saints" to the level of his angels. They cheerfully scorn Imperial rule by declaring themselves lords and protectors of what they call the Spartan, truly the Hellenic, sector. Their numbers are larger than some of the Legiones Astartes before the Great Heresy!" Raged Zaire, his

"What about Ultramar? Why should their little pocket empire span over twice the number of worlds the Spartans rule?" Asked the Inquisitor as she strode closer to him, gracefully taking a glass half filled with whine from a servitor held silver tray. She swirled it around the glass before smelling it and taking a delicate sip. "Excellent port, Adrienn."

"The Ultramarines may rule several hundred worlds, but they are the strictest adherents to the Codex Astartes. They never grew beyond its guidelines, much less to the ludicrous size of fourteen thousand!" countered Zaire, his anger obvious.

"Calm yourself, Adrienn, it seems as if you and I each have a problem. Different in all regards save one, their solution." She informed him.

"Which is?" Zaire prodded. Unsure of where she was going with this discussion and unwilling to take a chance with trying to guess her motives.

"The Spartans." She answered, seemingly through with her little game.

"And what have the Spartans done to gain your grievance, Lady Inquisitor?" Zaire delicately inquired.

The inquisitor's eyes flashed briefly with something Zaire couldn't discern. She turned from him and took another sip of her wine before placing the glass back on the servitor held tray. In a graceful move Zaire doubted even the Eldar could match, she turn back to him and walked to the window.

"Truly a miraculous view you have here. I should very much like to return here again and see the sunrise from this vantage." She said as if forgetting their conversation, but Zaire knew better than that.

They stood there watching Holy Terra for well over a minute before she broke the crushing silence.

"What they have done is of no concern of yours, Adrienn. What is of your concern is that our method may be…unorthodox." She finally responded, biting her lip.

Unsure if her biting her lip was a return to her siren like demeanor or an expression of frustration, Zaire decided to keep his questions brief.

"What do you require of me?" He asked, hoping for as little connection between himself and whatever she was going to do as possible.

"I require one, very simple task of you, Adrienn. Soon, you may receive distress calls from the Spartan Sector requesting immediate Imperial Navy and Imperial Guard reinforcement. It is imperative that you meet these requests, but not when they ask." She told him.

"Madam Inquisitor, I do not understand." Zaire replied, swallowing his anger at being ordered around like a common menial.

"You must rally a retribution fleet to retake the Spartan sector exactly twenty one standard days after the calls for help were originally dispatched. Do you understand now?" She elaborated, an eyebrow cocked as if daring him to ask another question.

"I understand, Inquisitor."

U.S.S. Enterprise – Sovereign Class Starship

Stardate 56908.9

Fleet Staging grounds 1.5 light years from the Iconian Drive test site

Picard stood in in the ship's sickbay next to Laforge, Worf, and Data while Dr. Crusher assessed and scanned Elizabeth Schneider. Counselor Schneider stood before him in an outrageous costume, a dress, armor plates, a sword and pistol on her belt. On the main medical screen in the sickbay, normally where vital signs and other information were displayed, was a communication link with Starfleet Command. The Admirals all looked grim as they surveyed Elizabeth Schneider in her attire.

"Elizabeth, I want you to tell us what happened again, from the last thing you remember happening on the Enterprise, to when Q brought you back."

The Admirals all sat in silence as Schneider recounted her story to them, their brows furrowing ever more as her story progressed. Their attention was so captured by recounting that Picard doubted they noticed Data's fingers hammering away at a data pad at such a rapid pace that the staccato of responsive beeps emitted by the pad seemed to blur into a single tone. Worf on the other hand, stood as still and immovable as a statue carved of granite.

"Counselor Schneider, please elaborate on the soldiers you witnessed." Ordered Admiral Janeway.

"Admiral, if I may." Interjected Data as he stepped forward lowering his arm to his side as he did.

Raising her eyebrows and nodding permission Janeway gestured with her right hand as she spoke "Please do, Commander."

Data pressed a small series of commands on his pad as he stepped to the side, two holograms appearing net to him. One was as tall as him, the other was massive. Towering so tall the hologram clipped through the ceiling. Data's head barely level with its chest plate making him appear as if he were a child. Almost everyone visibly recoiled and the Admirals immediately began hurriedly talking to one another.

"Admirals, this is only an approximation of what Q said were called 'the Spartans' as you can see the larger of the two is heavily armed and armored and it would be best that we avoided getting into a fight with them, the smaller of the two is less threatening and carries much lighter arms and armor. However, we cannot begin to imagine what it takes for them to be called 'Trans-human.'" Explained Data as he made gestures to the individual figures.

"Commander," interrupted Janeway "Are you saying we simply submit to the Imperium?"

"No Ma'am, I'm saying that we shouldn't make them an enemy. I doubt we have the ability to resist them in open warfare or even in a gorilla action." Concluded Data.

"Admiral" Interupted Picard. "May I ask the status of the Ork invasion?"

Janeway glanced to the other admirals.

"They've stopped advancing and seem to be regrouping. The Klingons are constantly bombing their planetary forces but I'm afraid no one has ever engaged a force of such vast numbers. It will take a while for them to set back the Orks in any degree. We're mustering fleets to assist the Orks but frankly, our industry is still transitioning into a war setting and it will be a while before we can provide meaningful assistance beyond humanitarian aid. As far as recruitment goes, I'm afraid the population isn't going to accept the Orks as a genuine threat to them until it's too late, and we're basing our recruitment campaign accordingly."

"Admiral," Spoke Worf "What about an Army? We need dedicated ground forces to be able to repel any planetary assault by the Orks, let alone retake the worlds they've seized."

"Starfleet has never had a standing army, but you're right. We've instituted a subset of the Tactical officer training program focused on ground combat, but again, until we have the recruitment numbers, we won't be able to raise a standing army for some time." Answered Janeway.

"One final note of matter." Continued Janeway "Starfleet has seen fit to name me as Supreme Commander Starfleet, the appropriate information is being dispatched throughout the fleet. God Speed. Starfleet out."

* * *

Boss Skull-Basha's camp, Sum Bump'ead rock

Time: Oo' cares

Past da portal

The Ork camp was uncharacteristically quiet, so quiet the Gretchen could be heard scrambling over each other. The armored hulk fell to the ground in a thunder of groaning metal and dead weight with steam and hydraulic oils pumping from its armor. Without a word, the victor dragged the corpse towards the bon fire and unceremoniously pushed it into the fire. The Orks surrounding shifted their weight and jostled each other in discomfort. Even they knew that a dead Ork wasn't truly dead due to the spores released by his body. Burning an Ork's body denied that from happening and in fact hurt the Ork race as a whole as it prevented their numbers from growing and denied them a food source.

This didn't seem to trouble the victor as he reached into the fire and picked up a handful of the ashes now mixing with the ashes already there. Standing up the victor began to rub the ashes over himself, covering his green skin in a thick white coating making him look like a ghost. Once he was done, he picked up a looted hammer from their strikes against the Umies and a spare power claw. Turning towards Grease-Sniffa he said,

"Grease-Sniffa, put dese two bits togevvah an make me a powah hammah klaw."

"You'z got it, Boss." Answered Grease-Sniffa around the bolt he chewed on, immediately taking out his welder.

The Boss went back to the fire and continued to cover himself in the ashes until every part of exposed skin was the same, grunting loudly as he told the others to do the same. Only when Grease-Sniffa came back to the boss with his new hammer did he stop applying ashes to himself.

"'Ere ya go Boss" said Grease-Sniffa as he held up the weapon to the boss while the boss tore off the armor covering his hands.

The boss took the massive weapon in his right hand, then with his left he took out a spray can of something. Turning towards the horde of Orks he bellowed a roar of victory that was almost immediately joined by shouts from the horde. He allowed the cheers to endure for a while until he held up his hand for silence.

"I am da Boss!" He bellowed. "You iz ma War Boyz!" Smok-Belcha held up his new weapon. "Dis iz Klaw-Hammah! I am Smok-Belcha! WAAAAAAAGH!"

Their war cries could be heard all across the planet, shaking the very ground.

"WAAAAAAAAAAGH!" resounded in Smok-Belcha's ears punctuated by chants of "ORKS ORKS ORKS ORKS!"

"Git da Boyz into da ships." Ordered Warboss Smok-Belcha, shouting to be heard over the noise. "We'z gonna go lukkin fo a fight!"


	9. IX-TERMINUS DECREE

Greetings All,

First, I would like to say thank you to everyone for their support and questions during my time writing this cross over. Unfortunately, as you may guess, I have to announce the end of this series. It was tremendous fun to write and a great chance to expand the lore for my homebrew chapter. But I recently learned that the homebrew chapter I thought up was basically a rogue bunch of Minotaurs that were "Inquisitor Criptman-ed." As a result I've completely restarted my Homebrew chapter. Currently still in R&D. If there is enough interest I'll post the fluff for them as it develops. Also, I've been working 70+hour weeks at 2 paramedic jobs in preparation for a possible move so my time is extremely limited.

With all of that said, I just want to say thank you again to all who read and enjoyed my work.

The Emperor Protects,

Murican Patriot.


End file.
